


Holocene

by Techno_Zav



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Character Study, Childhood Friends, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Not kidding, Slow Build, Slow Burn, alright, did I mention slowburn?, friends to better friends to nothing to friends to lovers, it was only supposed to be a one shot, it's slow as fuck, long fic, slowburn, there's smut towards the end, young keith, young lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Techno_Zav/pseuds/Techno_Zav
Summary: In hindsight, Keith should have seen it coming.Should have seen all of it coming, like the small but impactful text he receives not long after he wakes up:yo Keithers, I found this little trail to a sick waterfall when I was out explorin the other daywe should toats check it out this weekend if ur freeIt’s not our mountain top but it’s somethin lemme tell yaIt’s not a double text, it’s a Triple Text, and in hindsight, Keithreallyshould have seen it coming.Alternatively- It starts when 6 year old Keith runs into 6 year old Lance on a remote mountain top and their lives seem to merge together until everything seems to fall apart, until one day it doesn’t, and the fate of the universe somehow draws them together again. It ends 15 years later on that same mountain top, with miles and miles of history in the one-inch gap between them.





	1. Age 6 - It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this during the long drive home from a campground one beautiful summer day, with Holocene by Bon Iver on repeat. This fic is loosely based off of the song and music video so listen to the song as you read the first chapter! I have almost all chapters done so far, 9 of them, so updates will be once a week until the updates catch up to where I have left off.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!

_Someway, baby, it's part of me, apart from me_  
_You're laying waste to Halloween_  
_You fucked it friend, it's on its head, it struck the street_  
_You're in Milwaukee, off your feet_

“You can't leave! Krolia-”

“The war is still going on, I have to.”

“But what about Keith?! He’s only 6 years old, you can't leave him! Krolia, just think- You can't leave-”

The door shuts softly behind Keith as he walks out to sit on the front step and tug his shoes on. He’s got a red backpack filled with a few water bottles, his favorite granola bars, and a warm blanket. The bag is too large for his small back and slightly too heavy for him to carry, so he almost tips over when he stands up and jumps down off the step. The muffled argument gets quieter and quieter the further away from the house he walks, until he turns off the driveway onto the mountain road and the argument fades away into the chirping of birds, the whistle of the wind through the trees. 

Keith is 6 years old, his parents argue a lot, his mom is leaving soon, and Keith is running away to his quiet spot for the third time this week. 

When he gets to the highway, Keith sprints across even though there's no cars in sight, even though there's nothing around for miles. To his left, the highway sign marking the miles to Blue River Provincial Park stands as the only man-made object among the vast stretch of trees, mountains, and ice cold lakes. To his right is the mountain road he just walked up, and up ahead, Keith can see the jagged edge of the glaciers, just barely concealing the bench he knows to be up there. 

Warm from the walk here, Keith takes his sweater off and ties it around his waist. Then, grabbing the walking stick left behind the last time he hiked out here, he pushes his way past the dense foliage that hides the beginning of a thin, bushy trail. With one final glance behind him, Keith starts the climb to his favorite hideaway spot, where he knows silence and solitude greet him, where he knows no one can find him. 

The vast stretch of British Columbia mountains, forests, and glaciers surrounding him makes Keith feel smaller than he already is. And up here, once Keith has pushed his way through the remaining trees and stepped out onto the empty, grassy field of the mountain top, Keith feels both on top of the world and so far below everything; 6 years old and unimportant. 

Keith walks over to the solitary bench on the far side of the mountain top and drops his bag onto it. He unties his sweater from his waist and pulls it on; It’s windier and cooler up here, standing on the flat top of the mountain, overlooking an empty, icy lake, maybe a hundred feet sloping down below. The height of the surrounding mountains makes the overcast sky appear closer to Keith than the lake below him. Makes him feel as if he could just reach out a hand and grab a fistful of clouds, a handful of stars at night. Swinging himself up onto the bench that overlooks the lake and the mountains and the overcast sky, Keith’s small feet dangle just off the ground. As he stares out at the vast landscape around him, he’s all at once reminded that he's not magnificent.

He’s 6 years old, his parents argue all the time, and he’s nothing compared to this beautiful world around him. 

Keith tugs his knees to his chest, closes his eyes, and lets the sound of the mountains lure him to sleep. 

~

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent,_  
_Strayed above the highway aisle,_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice,_  
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles._

~

“Hey!” 

Keith is awoken by the rapid crunch of footsteps and a loud voice getting louder as it gets closer. He turns around on his bench to see a boy, maybe only a few years younger than Keith himself, bounding across the field right towards the bench. The boy’s got a cape flying out behind him and his arms, littered with Hello Kitty Band-Aids, are spread out like the wings of an airplane. As he comes closer, Keith notices the caramel coloured skin, the messy mop of brown hair, and the bright, deep blue eyes. All in all, the kid looks like a tangle of limbs and energy, and Keith is stuck between being upset that his quiet place has been interrupted, or being happy that he’s been found by a boy of his size

“Hi!” The boy says when he comes to a stop a few feet in front of Keith’s bench. “Look at this!” 

He stomps a foot on the ground and his Lightning McQueen sneakers light up in bright, flashing colours.

Keith's eyes go wide. “Woah.” He says. 

“Woah is right! Aren’t they super duper cool?”

The boy hops up on the bench, making it wobble, and then jumps off. When he lands, mimicking the landing of a superhero, both sneakers light up and start flashing. Keith glances down and wiggles his toes inside his worn out Sketchers. 

“Woah.” He says again. 

“The name’s Lance by the way and I’m going to be an astronaut one day!” The boy says, turning away from Keith and out towards the lake. The boy spreads his arms out wide, tips his head back, and lets the breeze sweep over him, “I’m gonna be the first man to walk on Mars and my ship's gonna take off right here!”

“Uh, actually you can't because this is my spot.” Keith says, because he’s only 6 years old and this loud boy has just jumped in and stolen his peaceful spot from him.

The boy - Lance - turns back around with his hands on his hips, glancing at the dirt under his feet, “I don’t see your name anywhere, so it’s not yours. Who even are you?”

“I’m Keith and it’s my spot ‘cause I got here first and I'm not gonna let you put a spaceship here.” Keith says.

“Well, Keith, I’m here too. So it’s my spot and I don't have a ship yet, I said 'one day', weren't you even listening?” Lance pauses, thinking. “Hey! Maybe we can share? I'll let you ride in my ship if you let me take-off from here!”

“I don’t share.”

Lance sticks his tongue out at Keith and Keith sticks his tongue out right back at Lance, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah? So, if I get here before you tomorrow then it’s my spot?” Lance challenges. 

“No. ‘Cause that won’t happen. ‘Cause I live here.”

Lance spins on the spot, glancing around the whole mountain top. His eyes are scrunched together, like he’s seriously looking for something. 

“Nuh-uh. No, you don’t.” Lance says when his eyes travel back around to Keith’s. 

“Do too.”

“Yeah? Then where’s your house? Where d’you sleep?” Lance seems to actually wonder. Keith can’t help but grin smugly and points down to the right of the lake, where far in the distance the wooden roof of a small cabin is just barely visible through the thick cluster of the B.C forest. 

“Right there.” Keith says matter of factly. 

“Oh. Well, then I live here too,” Lance says, adjusting the cape around his neck, “Mama and my brother and sister and me live in a trailer in the campground right at the bottom of this trail.” He points in the opposite direction of Keith’s trail. 

“Oh.”

“Mama and my brother and sister and me live in the trailer all summer! Then we go back home at the end of the summer so we can go to school. We got here two days ago but I wasn’t allowed to leave the campsite until today because Mama wanted to walk me up here but she was busy yesterday and the day before we all had to unpack everything! But if she wasn’t busy and I wasn’t busy I would have got up here before you so that means that I actually got here first, so it’s my spot!”

Keith almost gets lost in the jumble of words that come pouring out of Lance’s mouth in one giant breath, and his brain has to work in super speed to catch up. 

“Nuh uh!” Is all he can manage to say. 

Off in the distance Keith can hear someone calling out a name. It doesn’t sound like ‘Lance’, yet Lance turns towards the voice and throws an arm up, waving in an exaggerated motion. 

“Mama! Over here!” He yells.

Then, turning back to Keith, “That’s my mom! I gotta go, I think she’s ready to head back down now! I’m gonna be here tomorrow at the same time and you’d better be here, Mr. Keith!” 

The boy bounds away from Keith, whooping and hollering with his arms spread out wide and legs pumping fast, his cape flying out behind him. 

“I bet I’ll be here first, loser!” Keith yells to Lance’s retreating back.

Keith watches him run across the mountain top until Lance is nothing more than a tiny speck in the field, his voice carrying all the way with him. Keith shakes his head with a little smile playing on his lips, reveling once again in the quiet of the mountain.

~

It’s not all that often that Keith sees other boys his age during the summer, let alone get a chance to talk to them, so when it’s just after lunch the next afternoon, Keith calls a quick “I’m going out!” to a seemingly empty house and races down the road at top speed.

Keith breaks through the foliage at the top of the trail with an excited grin spread across his face and a bead of sweat on his forehead. He gets to the bench in record time and tosses his backpack up besides him, his grin deepening when he sees that the whole mountain top is empty. Pulling out his blanket and cuddling underneath it, Keith falls asleep waiting for Lance to catch up. 

Keith is awoken by the rapid crunch of footsteps and a loud voice getting louder as it gets closer. He turns around on his bench to see Lance racing across the field at top speed, a warrior cry bellowing from his wide open mouth. There’s no cape today and Keith can see that he’s got Velcro running shoes on in place of the light up sneakers. His arms still have Band-Aids on them, and his hair is still the same unruly mop it was the day before. 

“Got here first,” Keith says, smugly, once Lance is close enough to hear him. 

Stopping besides the bench, Lance bends over panting. “You musta cheated, I ran as fast as I could!”

“Nope, I’m just faster.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

Lance doesn’t argue further, just turns out to the lake, tips his head back and lets the wind sweep over him. 

“Oh yeah! Look, my super cool, older brother taught me a trick. Just watch my hand,” Turning back towards Keith, Lance takes a coin out of his pocket. Keith scoots closer on the bench to see better as Lance closes his hand over the coin, holding it in a fist out in front of him. A moment later, Lance opens his hand, and as if by some otherworldly magic, it’s empty. Keith blinks and the coin drops out of Lance’s sleeve, falling onto the dirt at his feet. Lance frowns at it. “Uh, so I’m not that good at it just yet, but I’ll get it! Lemme try again!”

Keith snorts and picks up the coin, holding it out for Lance to try again. This time, even though his six-year-old sleight of hand is more than a little clumsy, Lance manages to push the coin into his sleeve so that when he opens his fist to show Keith, it’s empty and the coin is nowhere to be seen. 

At the success of his trick, Lance’s grin spreads to cover his whole face and Keith can't help but hold his hand up and offer a high five. 

~

They spend the whole summer becoming friends, till Keith no longer runs to his spot on the mountain top to run away from home and instead runs away to meet up with Lance. They swap Hotwheels and Legos, stories and funny memories, and occasionally Lance brings him some treats that his mom baked the previous night. Keith doesn’t have much to share, but Lance has stories that stretch on for miles, miles, miles, to the point where Keith has to cover Lance’s mouth if he wants to get a sentence in. 

Lance becomes the first true friend Keith has ever had, and when the summer comes and goes and Lance must leave, Keith finds himself super sad, not ready to face his spot without Lance’s mess of brown hair, without his bright blue eyes, and run-on mouth. 

On Lance’s last day, Keith gives him a huge hug and promises to be in this spot on the first Friday after the long weekend next summer. It’s a big promise, a long way away, and much, too much, to remember for a couple of six-year-olds, but Lance holds out his pinky and pinky-promises to be there. 

_(“You gotta pinky-promise, Keith! A pinky-promise can’t be broken!”_

__

_“I’m gonna miss you.”_

_“Me too Keithy, but I’ll be here next summer. And you’d better be too!”)_


	2. Age 7 - Swimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is up, enjoy!

Keith is 7 years old and once again feeling on top of the world. It’s mid-summer and his feet still don’t touch the ground as he dangles his legs from the bench, waiting for Lance, but he’s a bit taller, his hair is a little bit longer at the back, and he can read children’s novels all by himself now. He’s already pulling out _The Magic Treehouse_ , a book he borrowed from the local library last week under Lance’s request, but he leaves it closed on the bench besides him, following an unspoken rule of waiting for Lance before he starts reading the next chapter. Keith closes his eyes and lets the cool mountain breeze ruffle his hair as he waits, like he’s done nearly every day since the start of the summer.

 _And at once I knew I was not magnificent,_  
_High above the highway aisle,_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice,_  
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles._

“Keith! Keithy! Mr. Keith!”

Keith is awoken by the rapid crunch of footsteps and a small voice getting louder as it gets closer. He turns around on his bench to see Lance racing across the field, a too big, blue backpack bouncing around on his small back.

“Keith, look! I brought some Banana Bread that mom baked last night, it’s sooo gooood, you gotta try it!” Lance says as a greeting.

Lance has taken to dragging out some of his words because his older brother speaks like that, and if Lance’s cool, older brother does it and Lance does it, then Lance must also be cool.

Keith thinks Lance, with his arms covered in Hello Kitty bandaids (again), his awkward limbs, golden skin (more so than last summer), and his habit of rambling over everything and anything (will he ever shut up?), is cool no matter what.

He’ll never say that to Lance’s face though.

Lance tosses his backpack besides Keith’s and hops up onto the bench. Lance’s toes just barely scrape the ground as he kicks his caramel coloured legs back and forth, wiggling under the blanket Keith has draped over his lap.

Keith picks up the book from besides him and opens to the bookmarked page.

“Wanna keep reading?” He asks, even though the book is already turned to the next chapter and Lance is already snuggled up to Keith under the blanket, peering over Keith’s shoulder trying to read it.

“Yup! I’ve been dying to know how Jack gets Annie outta trouble. One day, I’m gonna be a knight in shining armour for a girl of my own, ya know!” Lance says, smiling wide.

Keith smiles back, flicks Lance’s ear, and starts reading out loud.

~

Keith wakes up to the bang of the front door closing. He slides out from under the covers, slips on his slippers, and walks downstairs to see his dad sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

“Where’s Mom?” Keith asks.

His dad raises his head and smiles weakly at Keith. “She had to pop into work today honey. Want some breakfast? I can make you some oatmeal.”

Keith can sense that he’s not really telling the whole truth, but slides into a kitchen chair without saying anything. Recently, the arguments have become longer and more frequent and Keith’s not exactly sure what they mean, but he’s almost positive his mom will be leaving soon. For good.

“Oh. Oatmeal’s fine.” Keith says, glancing at the door.

~

It’s the second to last week of summer when Keith’s mom enters his room in the middle of the night and kisses his forehead.

“Keith, baby, I have to leave you and dad for a bit. There’s something very important I need to take care of far, far away. Dad will take good care of you while I’m gone okay? I told him that you like your pancakes cooked super soft, and to only poor a little bit of water in your oatmeal, just the way you like it.” Her eyes are twinkling in the soft moonlight, and Keith is still sleepy enough that it takes him a minute to realize that she is crying.

He’s never seen her cry before.

“I love you baby. Be good for me, okay?”

And with one last kiss on the forehead, she’s shutting the door softly behind her.

A few moments later, the front door closes just as softly; so soft, that Keith wonders if maybe he’s still asleep and dreaming.

~

When Keith wakes in the morning, the house is unsettlingly quiet, and there’s no sign of mom anywhere. No high heels sitting by the front door, none of her clothes hanging in his parents’ shared closet, no make up by the bathroom sink.

There’s a note on the kitchen table.

_Keith,_

_I’ll be back by dinner, just going to make sure your mom made it to the airport ok._

_Be good Kiddo._

_\- Dad_

So it wasn’t a dream.

He crumples the note and tosses it at the wall.

He’s out the door, backpack on his back, shoes slapping on the pavement, running away to get away for the first time in a long while. The tears streaming down his face blur his vision as he pushes past the dense foliage concealing the thin trail.

Keith is 7 years old and his mom has just left him for good.

~

Keith runs the whole way to his spot on the mountain top and by the time he gets there, he’s all out of tears. He’s just empty, lonely, and a little scared. So he sits on the bench with his knees tucked to his chest and falls asleep as he waits for Lance. Because Lance is kind, loud, and familiar, and he always comes back when he leaves.

 _And at once I knew I was not magnificent,_  
_High above the highway aisle,_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice,_  
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles._

Keith is awoken by the rapid crunch of footsteps and a small voice getting louder as it gets closer. He doesn’t turn around on his bench to see Lance crossing the field, he just stays facing the lake, waiting for Lance to reach him. The tears long dried on his face.

Lance comes to a stop behind the bench, knowing that something is up from the lack of movement and regular greeting. Lance slides onto the bench besides Keith, pressing in tight and putting his arms around Keith’s shoulders. Keith leans into the touch, sniffles into Lance’s shoulder, and spills.

Lance is quiet for a while after Keith finishes retelling the events of the past few weeks up until last night and this morning, stroking Keith’s back with one hand, holding tight to Keith’s hand with the other.

“Maybe she just needs to visit family somewhere?” Lance says, eventually, gazing off at the lake and the surrounding mountains. Everything seems bigger up here, making the two boys on the bench appear so much smaller and so much more insignificant than the vast landscape around them. “Or maybe she just needs to take a break from your dad? You said they were arguing a lot, right? My brother’s friend lived with us for a few days last winter, his mom left to take a break from his dad and she came back after, like, a week, so maybe your mom will too?”

Keith just sniffles.

“Oh! I know what will cheer you up. Swimming!”

Raising his eyes to meet Lance’s, Keith wipes the back of his hand across his nose. Just being with Lance is already making him feel a little less lonely.

“I go swimming every time I’m sad! It’ll cheer you right up, I promise!”

“But, I can’t swim. I don’t even have a bathing suit.” Keith says.

Jumping off the bench, Lance moves to stand right in front of Keith, his deep blue eyes shining with excitement.

“Tomorrow lets meet a little earlier and I’ll bring an extra bathing suit and I can teach you how to swim! I’m an amazing swimmer!” Lance’s excitement is contagious, and suddenly, Keith’s not as scared anymore.

Not feeling as lonely as earlier.

He sniffles and nods his head, squeezing tight on Lance’s hand.

“‘Kay.”

~

They spend the next afternoon in the icy water of the lake at the base of their mountain top. Lance teaches Keith to swim, and they watch the sun move through the sky, floating on their life-jacketed backs, and playing with a frisbee Lance brought. They stay this way, revelling in each other's company, until the setting sun starts to cast the sky in copper, and Lance’s watch beeps to tell him it’s time to head home.

When they climb out of the water hours later, smiles drip off their faces and goosebumps litter their arms and legs. Keith feels lighter, less lonely, and for the past few hours, all the troubles of home melted into the back of his mind.

They dry off and walk up the hillside together, as far as they can, until the path splits and they agree to meet up again a few days later.

As they hug goodbye, Lance tells Keith to keep the bathing suit and just give it back at the end of the summer.

~

The rest of Keith’s summer is spent between playing with Lance on their mountain top and going on small adventures with his dad in a last ditch effort to keep the Kogane family alive. In Lance’s company, Keith learns to forget about feeling lonely, wrapping himself up in Lance’s endless chatter, until the summer comes to an end again and Lance must leave again.

On Lance’s last day, Keith gives him a hug that is tighter and lasts longer than any hug he’s ever had before, one that speaks more than words could ever say, and promises to be in this spot on the first Friday after the long weekend next summer. It’s a big promise but they’re 7-years-old, the bestest of friends, and a pinky-promise can’t be broken.

_(I’m going to miss you so much Keithy.”_

_“Me too, Lance.”_

_“I bet I’ll have so much to share with you when we meet again! And hey, maybe I’ll even finally be taller than you!”_

_“Ha! In your dreams!”_

_“Just, try not to be lonely too much okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”_

_“Thanks, Lance.”)_

~


	3. Age 9 - Moon Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's falling

“Dad, I’m going for a walk!” Keith calls out as he’s already out of the door. 

There’s a muffled reply, but Keith doesn’t stick around long enough to hear it; it’s the first Friday after the long weekend and Keith is dying to get to his bench. He’s got his Ipod that his dad bought him for Christmas and a pair of headphones in his backpack, alongside his dad’s old copy of the first book from the _Chronicles of Narnia._

Keith is 9 years old and super duper stoked to see Lance again. 

Keith is awoken from his daydream by the rapid crunch of footsteps and a loud voice getting louder and louder as it gets closer and closer. With an ear-splitting grin, he turns around on his bench to see Lance racing across the field, a blue guitar bouncing around on his back. 

“Yo, Lance!” Keith shouts, not even bothering to wait until Lance is close enough to hear. “Is that a guitar?”

“Duh.”

Lance doesn’t stop beside the bench this time, instead, he runs until he’s in front of it and yanks Keith to his feet, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. 

“I missed you, man! I’ve got soooo much to tell you!”

Keith smiles into Lance’s shoulder. 

“Me too.”

Lance has more than half a foot on Keith now, his tan limbs long, awkward, and clumsy as he pulls away from Keith, and turns out towards the lake, letting the cool mountain breeze ruffle his mess of chocolate brown hair. 

“The view looks even better this summer,” Lance says, walking as close to the edge as he can get. “It makes me feel so much smaller than I actually am.”

“So small, yet it feels like we’re on top of the world.”

“Exactly, it’s kinda comforting.” Lance pauses to turn around in a full circle with his arms spread out wide and his head tipped back. 

“Oh yeah,” Lance turns back to Keith but keeps his eyes closed. “Did you still have the bathing suit I gave you two summers ago?” Keith nods. “Does it still fit? I’ve got an extra one if it’s too small for you, but you look like you haven’t grown at all! We need to go swimming so much more this summer.”

“Yeah. We could even camp up here one night! My dad put me in a boy scouts thing in the spring, I can start a fire and pitch a tent all by myself now!” 

“You can make a fire and pitch a tent and I can play a whole lotta Coldplay and Taylor Swift on the guitar, we’re so cool.” Lance grins. 

“Can you even play that thing? It looks kinda complicated.”

“Of course I can! Can you even pitch a tent? I heard you have to be pretty smart to do that.”

Keith shoves Lance’s shoulder and Lance shoves him right back, smile stretching to match Keith’s ear-splitting one. 

Although they’re bickering and Keith has already tackled Lance to the ground, laughing, the boys are 9 years old and ready to face the summer. Together. 

~

A few weeks later the sun is setting and they’re sat side by side on the bench, Lance warming up his guitar with a quick little Yankee Doodle tune. Keith grins, and asks Lance if he knows how to play anything better. 

“Course I do! Mama made us pick an activity to do after school and I chose guitar lessons. My sister chose ballet, of course, and my brother chose soccer. I wanted to do soccer too, of course, but mom says I’ve gotta be at least 10 before she signs me up because then I can fit into Benji’s stuff and she won’t have to buy anything new!” Lance says with a little laugh. 

“You sure your feet don’t fit now?” Keith asks, teasingly nudging Lance’s foot with his own. Lance’s feet are at least 3 sizes bigger than Keith’s. “You’ve got monster feet, Lance!” 

“Pfft, I do not! You’re just jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous over your big monster feet?”

“Ugh I don’t know, Keith, shut up would ya, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“You shut up! Concentrate on what? Yankee Doodle?” Keith full out laughs this time. “Actually, no, why don’t you play me a real song, I bet you can’t.”

“‘Course I can!” 

“Then do it!” 

“‘Shut up and I will!”

“‘Alright, shutting up now.” Keith mimics the zipping of his lips, tossing the key out over the edge of the mountain. He motions for Lance to start. 

The setting sun is painting the sky in hues of blues, oranges, pinks,

Lance starts to pick a few random notes, clearing his throat, and then he’s playing. 

The sun sinks further, adding purple to the list of hues it’s painting with. 

Keith instantly recognizes the song from the first 8 notes alone, It’s _Come As You Are_ , and Keith can’t help recalling a seemingly unimportant conversation with Lance last summer, where he offhandedly dropped that Nirvana was his current favorite band. 

Lance’s voice cracks on a few notes, sounding too high in places it’s not supposed to be, and the strings buzz a bit too much when he presses and tries to pick the chords, but Keith finds himself grinning anyway. Lance needs more practice, that much is obvious, but Keith’s amazed by the way the wind ruffles Lance’s hair as he manages to hit the next verse perfectly. He’s enraptured by the way Lance’s long fingers seem to dance across the strings, the bounce of his knee as he tries to find and keep the rhythm. 

All in all, the sun is melting into a gorgeous display resembling cotton candy, but Keith’s gaze is locked onto the boy playing a song from his favorite band, not even a foot away. 

When the chorus comes, Keith can’t help but join in, singing. 

Keith is 9 years old and for the first time, he thinks he’s falling. 

~

“So, Keithy,” It’s a week later and the boys are laying in the cool grass of the mountain top, cloud watching, “you’ve now seen that I am amazing at playing the guitar… when am I going to see how amazing you are at setting up a tent and making me a huge campfire?” 

Keith rolls in the grass to face Lance. “You wanna camp out here soon? I was thinkin’ of saving that for like, the last week or something. You know, make it special.”

Lance blinks one eye open, bringing a hand up to block out the sun. 

“Sure, if you still need a few weeks to practice starting a fire and you need to ask your dad to show you how to put the poles in the tent correctly, I don’t mind.” Lance teases. 

“You buttface, I know how to put the poles in correctly! And starting a fire is the easiest thing I’ve ever done!” 

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m serious!”

“Kay.”

“Lance!”

Lance laughs, pushing up onto his elbows. “Alright, fine. We’ll camp for the last week, but only if you promise to bring marshmallows and chocolate! My mom won’t let me take too much of that stuff, she’s always saying it’s got too much sugar or something.”

“What’s wrong with too much sugar?”

“Who knows. Oh, and if you can get your dad to buy more of those cookies that you brought a while ago, bring those!”

“Mhm, sure. You have your own sleeping bag right? The grass is comfy but not that comfy.”

“Yeah I got my own stuff, just gotta make sure my mom is okay with me spending the night without her!”

“Think she will be?”

“Hope so.”

“Cool.”

“Cool, it’s a date then!”

Keith snorts. “A date?”

“Yeah! I hear my sister say that to her friend all the time! It’s just when two people get together and do something really cool, something you both are excited for. Er, at least, that’s what I think it means…” Lance trails off, looking a little worried.

Keith giggles, “Then I guess it’s a date.”

The boys grin, rolling back on their backs to continue cloud watching, until Lance’s new watch beeps, alerting him that it’s time to go home. 

~

They spend the rest of the summer doing 9 year-old boy things; competitions of everything and anything. Who can climb trees the fastest, make it to the bench the fastest in the morning (more often than not, Keith wins this one), who can hold their breath the longest in the small lake (Lance, of course), who can tie their laces the fastest (Lance holds the record of 1:31 seconds to ties his shoes properly, Keith’s is 1:45, though Keith swears Lance’s laces are just shorter and easier), lego building competitions (no matter what they say or how much they try to wreck the other build, it’s always a tie for creativity). They even pretend to be superheroes saving the world from evil, where Keith is always in trouble, and somehow, Lance must be his knight in shining armor.

_Everything is a competition_ , and neither boy likes to loose. 

They fight a lot and Lance pouts and goes home on the worst of days, but he’s always at the bench the next morning, and Keith is always there waiting for him. 

The summer of 9-years-old comes and goes before they’re prepared for it. 

~

It’s 6:30 on the last night of their summer together and Keith is almost done building the fire. The tent, set up just to the side of the bench, took Keith only 20 minutes to set up by himself and 2 or 3 tries to get the poles in right, but hey, he did it, and despite Lances chirps, he’s proud. 

The tent is on the only perfectly flat spot on the whole mountain top and the fire pit is located a safe 15 of Lance’s monster feet away. Keith’s pretty proud of that too. 

“The hard part is gonna be getting the fire to light in the wind.” He says, getting a lighter and a fire starter out of his pocket. For a fire pit, the boys spent the morning collecting and carrying rocks from the lake, placing them in a small circle. They’ll have to take it all down in the morning, but for now, it’s perfect. 

“Want me to stand in front of the fire pit to try and block the wind?” Lance asks after watching a few unsuccessful tries to get the lighter to work. 

“No. I can do it myself.”

“Sure you can.”

“I can.”

“Mhm.” 

Lance ends up standing in front of the pit anyway, and 3, 4, 5, tries later they have a fire. The flame is super small and the log cabin frame that Keith tried to build is all lopsided, but it’s a flame and the sticks Lance threw in are just starting to catch fire. 

Keith is impressed. 

“You’re smiling.” Lance says, still standing to block the wind. 

“‘Course I am, this is my first successful fire!”

“Seriously?!” Lance laughs, “You said you were a pro at this!”

“Still am.”

“Oh, sure. And I’m wearing bright pink boxers.”

“... are you?”

“No! It was a joke, that’s the point, I’m not wearing bright pink boxers and you’re not a pro!”

“It’s not a good joke if you have to explain it, Lance.”

“Well, you just suck at… at.. uhh… understanding jokes!”

“Good one.”

Keith stands up, the single flame now using the wind as fuel, catching more of the sticks and twigs on fire. He’s grinning like crazy, but holy smokes is he proud. 

“Can we throw a log on now?” Lance asks. “The flames are definitely big enough.” 

Most of the wood has caught fire but, “No, we gotta wait a bit more, ‘till most of the tiny sticks are gone and we have some super hot coals.” 

“Look at you, the campfire expert.”

“Mhm, told you I was a pro.”

Lance tries, and fails, to roll his eyes. Instead of going in a full circle, like Keith is pretty sure an eye roll is supposed to work, Lance’s eyes just move side to side. And with his messy hair becoming messier by the wind, he looks weird, stupidly weird, and also... kind of pretty. 

Keith can’t help but laugh, openly staring. 

“What is it? Do I got something on my face?” Lance asks, when Keith stares for a little too long. 

Keith turns away, still laughing.

“We should probably go looking for marshmallow sticks before it gets dark.” He says. 

Lance looks skeptical but follows after Keith anyway, pouting and rubbing at his face.

~

The sun is just beginning to set as Lance pulls out his backpack and takes out the chicken sandwiches his mom made them for dinner. He tosses the one with mayo to Keith, and keeps the plain one to himself. At the bottom of Lance’s lunchbox is a bag of veggies and a sticky note that reads, _Keith, make sure you boys eat these!_ but Keith pretends he doesn’t see the note, and the bag of veggies remains hidden at the bottom of the box. 

Keith takes the large ziplock bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate squares out of his backpack and puts them on the grass besides them. 

They sit side by side, a golden knee pressed tight to a pale one as they eat their chicken sandwiches and watch the sun sink below the mountain line, casting the sky in hues of light blues, oranges, pinks, and purples. Silhouettes of birds fly home across the mountain top, occasionally dipping down to skim the surface of the lake. 

The lake, where the reflection is making the sun look almost whole. Where Keith’s gaze should be, but is caught elsewhere. 

“It’s so pretty.” Lance whispers. 

_So are you._

Keith tears his eyes away from flawless golden skin, deep blue eyes, and messy brown hair and looks outwards. 

“It’s... magnificent.” 

~

“Wait, your actually gonna use that knife?!” Lance is amazed, “I’m not even allowed to eat with a real steak knife yet! I gotta use a butter knife!”

“Seriously? How else do you think I’m going to sharpen these?”

“Uhh, you don’t have to sharpen them at all! You just stick a marshmallow right on top and no one gets hurt!”

“No one is going to get hurt, dummy. I’m almost done anyway.” Keith snaps his dad’s pocket knife closed, tossing Lance a freshly sharpened marshmallow stick. “If you keep being annoying you will get hurt.”

“Rude.”

“Shut up then.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’ll do what I want.”

“How about you make me a perfect s’more, Mr. Pro-At-Everything-Outdoorsy.”

“I never said I was a pro at _everything_.”

“Oh, so you can’t make me a perfect s’more?”

“Oh, it’s on buttface, be prepared to eat the best s'more of your life.”

“Mhm.”

A few minutes later, Lance is covered in chocolate and Keith is sure his face isn’t much better, but he’s positive that the s’more he gave Lance was the best one he’s ever made, no matter what Lance says. 

~

They stay up ‘till the moon shines bright and the stars come out and Keith points out as many constellations he knows. 

‘Till Lance tries to outdo Keith by making up his own constellations, and naturally, they’re having a competition to see who can find the weirdest shaped cluster of stars.

‘Till it’s past 10:30 and Lance’s watch beeps, and he shamefully tells Keith that it’s his bedtime and his Mama will skin him alive if he stays up any later. 

They crawl into the tent and into their side by side sleeping bags, swapping funny stories until Keith hears Lance’s breath even out and Keith matches it, until he too drops off only a few moments later. 

~

Keith wakes up only hours later to Lance shaking his shoulder, his face only inches from Keith’s own. 

“Keith wake up and come look at this!”

Keith is a little groggy as he swats Lance’s hand out of his face, unzips his sleeping bag, and follows Lance out of the tent. 

As soon as he stands and looks up, all the grogginess disappears instantly, and Keith is wide awake. 

“Woah.” He says. 

“Woah is right, there’s like a million of them, it’s gorgeous.”

Keith isn’t sure whether Lance is referring to the millions and millions of stars in the pitch-black, late august sky, or the millions and millions of fireflies buzzing around their mountain top.

“Holy shit.” He says, eyes locked onto the sky above them. 

“You just swore.”

“ _Holy Shit_.”

“Well, yeah.”

Above them, the sky is filled with stars. 

Around them, the air is filled with fireflies. 

Together they cast the mountain top in a late night glow, giving off just enough light for Keith to _almost_ be able to make out every feature on Lance’s awestruck face. His mouth is hanging slightly open, his eyes are wide and his irises are small, taking everything in. 

It’s beautiful, and Keith’s never seen anything like it before. 

“Wow, look! Do you see that tiny cluster of stars over there? I swear they disappear when I stop looking at them, but there! I can see them again. You see that?! That’s so cool!” Lance suddenly says, a harsh whisper to not disrupt the gentle mood around them. 

He moves to lean in closer to Keith and points, so that Keith’s gaze can follow the finger pointing right at the stars he’s talking about.

Keith isn’t sure if it’s from the cool mountain air whipping through his thin t-shirt, or Lance’s warm breath hitting the side of his neck, or maybe a combination of both, but Lance’s face is suddenly close, too close, and Keith feels a shudder rack it’s way down his body, settling in the pit of his stomach. 

It takes a minute for Keith to remember why Lance moved so close and another minute for him to focus properly, but there, if Keith squints his eyes just right, a cluster of dim stars is just visible. Too dim to be seen individually yet shining as one through the darkness, like a cloud of luminous dust hidden within the other twinkling lights in the sky.

Lance moves his finger to the side and points to another spot in the vast sky above them and Keith’s eyes follow. The cluster of stars vanish from view the second Keith’s eyes gaze elsewhere, but when Lance’s finger seeks them out again, they pulsed to life with clarity. 

It’s as if a galactic light switch is being flicked off as soon as they look away, and flicked back on as Lance’s finger hovers beneath them again. 

“It’s like, a cloud.” Keith says.

“More like… stardust.”

“Huh, a cloud of stardust.”

“Whatever it is, it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

Lance drops his finger and pulls back out of Keith’s space. Instantly, it feels a million times colder and Keith misses the warmth and wants it back. So, in a spur of wonder at the stars above them, the cool of the late night air, the excitement of the gorgeous boy standing too far away, the feeling of not wanting to let the night slip between his fingers, to loose the moment, Keith reaches down and fits his hand into Lance’s. 

Lance squeezes his hand but keeps his head tipped back, gaze focused upward. From standing shoulder to shoulder, Keith can see the corner of his lip curved upward, in what Keith can only assume is an earth shattering smile. 

“Yeah.” He says again, “beautiful.”

They stand like that, shoulder to shoulder underneath a blanket of stars until Keith can feel Lance shivering, until he drags a reluctant Lance into the tent and under the mess of blankets, no longer caring about getting back into a sleeping bag. 

This time, just before Keith gives in to the pull of sleep, he feels a small hand wrap around his wrist and tug him a little closer. Lance says something, but Keith’s breaths have started to even out and he’s just barely walking the line between awake and asleep, so it’s all mumbled and Keith can’t make out the words. 

“‘Night, Lance,” he tries to say before he’s lost to the warmth and blissfulness of sleep.

Lance reaches out to ruffle Keith’s hair and squeezes his wrist one last time.

“I really, really like you, Keith.” He whispers to the soft lump on the sleeping bag next to him. 

~ 

Like the ending of every summer since they met, they part ways with big smiles, a huge hug, and plans to meet up and spend the next summer together in this exact spot. 

Unlike every other summer, the hug lasts a little too long and Lance has a single tear rolling down his face when he goes to pull away. 

“You’re not crying are you?” 

“No! I just, I- I got some dust in my eye!”

“Mhm, it’s ok to cry ya know.”

“I’m not crying! I’m just- I’m going to miss you sooooo much, Keithy!”

“Well, duh, I miss you too, idiot.”

“I don’t want to leave!” Lance says, hugging Keith and dragging him down so they’re both sitting on the dirt.

Keith flicks him on the forehead for being too dramatic. “See you next summer, loser. Try not to get too many detentions at school this year.”

“Try to actually go to school this year.”

“Hey, I go to school! When I feel like it.”

“Suuure. Oh and of course, try not to miss me too much.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s always a problem.”

Lance laughs and stands up, dusting himself off. 

The boys walk together as far as they can, until Keith gets to his trail and Lance gives him one last hug and one last heartfelt goodbye before he continues further down. 

Keith waves and watches him go until Lance disappears out of sight. 

His spot on the mountaintop just doesn’t feel the same when Lance is gone; It’s too quiet, too lonely, and Keith always feels like something is missing. So instead of sticking around, he turns and heads home. 

~


	4. Age 11 - Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a little angsty, no big deal

~

Fast forward two years and the boys are 11. 

It’s mid-summer, the air is unusually warm for the mountain top, and Lance walks up to a hunched-over-hoodie-wearing-with-the-hood-pulled-up-Keith, tossing a rock between his hands.

They’ve known each other for a few years now (5 summers exactly, but who’s counting), so it doesn’t take much for Lance to realise something is wrong. 

Keith’s taken to dressing in darker tones and listening to weirdly dark music recently, but even on those days Lance could tell Keith was happy, even though his appearance often shouted otherwise. 

Today though, from 15 feet away, Lance can immediately tell the choice of outfit with the earbuds in is directly reflective of Keith’s mood. Even the sky, overcast, gray, and bleak, is adding to the signs of Sad Keith. Something’s up, and Lance hopes it’s not what he thinks it is. 

They’ve known each other for 5 years now, and Lance is just beginning to learn how to pull Keith out of these moods. 

“10 bucks says that rock won't hit the lake from here.” Lance says once he’s a few feet behind Keith. 

He watches Keith toss the rock to one hand and dig around in his hoodie pocket with his other. 

“A granola bar says that it does.” Keith says eventually. 

“Wait, that means I get the granola bar if it doesn’t make it in, and you get the 10 bucks if it does?”

“That’s how bets work, Lance.”

Oh, that’s right, 11 year old Keith is not only sadder than 10 year old Keith, but he’s grouchier too, more competitive. He’s also let his hair grow out at the back. 

Lance grins. 

“Alright, bring it Mullet Boy.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Hmm, nope, don’t remember. Now are you gonna throw that or are you waiting for me to do it for you? ‘Cause I think we all know that my rock will make it in first try, and yours, my dear Mullet Boy, will miss by a mile.” Lance moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with Keith, holding his hand out for the rock. 

Keith looks over and tugs his earphones out, letting them fall to where he’s tucked them up through his hoodie. 

“No way, this is my damn rock, get your own.”

“Alright, alright, just throw it already would ya? Just put every single ounce of anger in that teeny tiny little body of yours into that rock and chuck the thing already!”

“You know what? Just to spite you, I think I’m not gonna throw it at all.”

“Then, the 10 bucks in my wallet is mine to keep, you lose a perfectly good bet, and I get that granola bar in your pocket that you don’t even like.”

“Shut up.” Keith says, but winds his arm back to throw the rock anyway. 

Internally Lance grins, the best way to drag Keith out of sulky mode (that he’s found so far) is to challenge him. Keith can never back down to a challenge, especially if Lance is involved, and Lance is gonna use that golden piece of knowledge against him every chance he gets. 

Keith bites his lip and tosses the rock with all the force his tiny 11 year old body can muster. 

They watch, intently, as the rock sails through the air. 

A rollercoaster of emotions flashes across Keith’s face as the rock flies over the edge of the mountain, hits the shore line down below, and rolls the last 20 feet, kerplunking into the water. 

Keith turns to face Lance with the smuggest, most shit eating grin on his face. Lance hasn’t seen that look in Keith’s eyes since a few weeks ago, when Keith challenged him to a tree climbing competition, won, climbed out of the tree, and proceeded to watch Lance get stuck in said tree for 45 minutes, because of course Keith’s ego was too big to climb up and help him get his shirt unhooked from the branch it was stuck on. Lance ended up with a giant hole in his shirt from well, ripping it, and had to deal with Keith’s ridiculous face of ‘haha get rekt loser, I’m finally better than you at something, eat it’ for the next 3 days. It was a good look on him.

“That’s a good look on you.” He says.

“Suck it, Lance. You didn’t think it was going in.”

“Neither did you!”

“What are you saying?! Of course I knew my rock was going to make it in, who do you think I am?!”

“I think you’re Keith Kogane, and you sir, just earned yourself 10 dollars.”

Keith holds his hand out expectantly and Lance just shrugs with a sheepish grin. “Well ya see, I reeeaallllyy didn’t think you’d get it in so I actually don’t have 10 bucks but I swear, next time I see ya, you’ll get it.”

At that last part, Keith’s face falls, and Lance heart breaks just a little. 

It is what he thinks it is then, what his mom warned him would probably happen very soon. 

“Keith, what’s up? You can tell me anything you know- ah nope, don’t you dare say nothing’s wrong, I know a brooding Keithers when I see one.”

“I’m not brooding!”

“You totally are. Now are you gonna tell me what's wrong or do you wanna hurl a few more rocks into the lake? Maybe actually hit the lake and not the shore this time?”

“Yeah. Well, no. Maybe. I - I don't know.”

“I think you just cycled through every single possible answer to any question, ever. How about we go with yes?”

“I’m just so pissed off right now. Talking’s not going to do anything.”

“Exactly, no harm in talking. Spill.”

Keith drops the rock he had picked up just a moment ago and shoulders past Lance, heading to sit on the bench. 

Lance takes the blue blanket out of Keith’s bag and goes to sit next to him, pressing in tight and draping the blanket across both their laps. Keith’s in a black hoodie and black jeans so he’s probably not all that cold, but Lance is only wearing a sleeveless hoodie and cargo shorts, and the air has got a cool chill to it under all the humidity of August. Lance snuggles deeper into Keith as he feels goosebumps start to peek through his skin. 

“I just. Well. Fine.” Keith heaves a huge sigh and digs his hands under the blanket and pulls out two things. Lance takes the granola bar from Keith’s outstretched hand and watches as he fiddles with the crumpled up piece of paper in the other hand. Even if Keith’s rock didn’t unfairly hit the shore and then, by shear luck, roll in, Lance knew he was getting the granola bar anyway. It’s the kind that Keith hates and they both know that Lance will eat just about anything remotely appetizing. 

“So, you know how my mom left when I was 6?” It’s a rhetorical question so Lance doesn’t bother answering, he just nods with his head against Keith’s shoulder. “And you know how my dad left the day after to go find her?” Lance nods again. “Well, he came back that night, like he said he would, but said he didn’t find her, and he was gonna try again later if she wasn’t home in a year or so. Uh, and then, so you know how he kept leaving randomly last summer and the one before? But he’d always come home randomly just to check up?” 

Nod.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this because I didn’t think it was a big deal, but I woke up late one winter morning and I thought he was gonna be pissed that I missed the bus and he’d have to drive me to school but when I went into the kitchen there was only a duffel bag on the table and a few sheets of paper filled with his writing. Basically he just said there was a lot of money in the duffel bag, which there was, and he explained how to make simple dinners and how to work the woodstove and other basic stuff like that, saying he’d be back within a year. And it was fine and all that, ‘cuz I know how to live by myself, I know how to buy and cook food, and I definitely know how to heat the house. He said the bills or whatever would be paid when he got back, but I guess someone somewhere wasn’t happy with that, or any of this, because I found this note dropped through the mail slot this morning.”

Keith uncrumples the note, slowly, and holds it out for Lance to take. 

It’s the most words Keith has ever said all at once, maybe even more words than he’s said for the whole 5 summers they’ve been together. It takes a moment for Lance to digest the words, let them sink in, before he reaches out and takes the paper. 

It takes another moment for Lance to finish reading, but when he does, he looks at Keith and understands the anger, the sadness, the hint of scared hidden behind the brave face he always puts on. Lance’s heart breaks just a little bit more. His mom was right: Such a young boy wouldn’t be able to live on his own for too long before someone found out how wrong it was and decided to step in. ‘Child Negligence’ Lance had heard his mom whisper to herself late at night. He’d spent the entire next day at the local library searching every dictionary and computer for the definition of that word, which he couldn’t even spell, before caving and just asking his mom. According to what she had told him, it wasn’t going to be a good situation for their friendship, or for Keith staying in Blue River. 

“Oh. So you’re leaving?” He asks, quietly. 

“Yeah I guess so, because somebody couldn’t just leave me alone! I was fine Lance, perfectly fine! I don’t need to be taken to a freaking _foster home_ so someone I don’t even care about can pretend to care about me!”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best, you know, so you can maybe get granola bars you actually like?” Lance tries to lighten the mood, to get Keith to crack a smile, anything.

Keith looks up to meet Lance’s eyes. He offers a weak smile. 

“I don’t think it works like that Lance, there’ll be too many boys and none of them are gonna be like you.”

Lance sighs and wraps an arm around Keith, doing his best to pull him into an awkward side hug. Hugs are the best form of comfort that Lance knows, and it doesn’t take long for Keith to cave and awkwardly hug him back. 

Before he even hears the sniffles, Lance knows that Keith is crying. 

And who wouldn’t be? The province just told him that his living situation is not suitable for a 11 year old boy, and he will be moving to Alberta to live in a home that will offer proper care. That, along with the fear of maybe never being able to see his dad again is a scary thought. 

“I just - what if I move and my mom comes back to a sold house, to me and dad not there? What if she can never find me again? I’m - Lance, I’m just so scared.”

And there it is. Lance’s heart breaks even more. 

“We, we’ll probably never see each other again, I’ll probably never get to sit on this bench again, camp out here with you again, go swimming with you again.”

Lance feels another sob wrack through Keith’s small body, so he just holds on tighter. “Keith, if you say that then it will never happen. We still have the rest of the summer! We can do everything you wanna do before you leave, so that when you leave, you’ll be happy about all the things that we’ve done, instead of sulking and being sad that we didn’t get to do anything.”

“But,” Keith drops his voice to a whisper, “I don’t want to leave, Lance. I don’t want to leave you without knowing when I’ll see you again.”

“You’ll see me again.”

“How d’you know that? Maybe after this summer we’ll be strangers, I’ll never see you and you’ll forget about me.”

“Keith, look at me. I would never forget about you, you’re too special to me for that. And I hope you never forget about me too, but we still have a few weeks before you leave, so what? Are we gonna be sad the whole time or are we gonna make the most of it?”

“I guess.”

“And hey, Keith? You better not forget about me or I’ll haunt you when I’m dead.”

At that, Keith lifts his head and smiles weakly, “who says you’re gonna die before me?”

“Oooh, is that a competition? You’re on mullet boy!”

“And Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s no way I’ll ever forget about you, it’d be damn near impossible.” 

Lance smiles through his aching heart and leans his head on Keith's shoulder. 

~


	5. Age 11 - Last Days

~

It takes a while for Keith's smile to return, but Lance cracks jokes and acts silly and Keith can't resist it, so he smiles and laughs, smiles and laughs. But he can't get rid of the ache in his chest at the thought of leaving. Of just walking away. 

They spend the last few weeks of their summer together doing 11 year old boy things; being dumb, holding dumb competitions, trying to one up the other at all times. They swim, they camp, they enjoy each other's company and try not to count the days till Keith leaves for good. 

It's during the last week that Lance bounds over to the bench with a giant smile on his face and a small shovel across his shoulders. 

“Keith! I know what we gotta do! We gotta build a time capsule!”

Keith turns around on the bench. “A what?”

“A time capsule.”

“Yeah, what?”

“What do you mean you don't know what a time capsule is, have you been living under a rock your entire life? Jeez, Keith.”

Keith just glares and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“How have you never heard of this before? It's, well, you put items that you think are cool or special into a box or something, and then you bury it, and then in a couple hundred years you come back and re-open it!”

“A couple hundred years? Lance, we’ll be dead.”

“I meant 10! 10 years. Or maybe 20? Who knows. But the point is, we have to do it together! We bury it together and we dig it up together!”

“That sounds dumb.”

“No it doesn’t, you’re just being mean.”

It doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all, in fact, it sounds like a promise to meet up again. 

“How would we even meet up to open it? How would we know?”

“We obviously remember the day, August 28th, 10 years from now. I expect you to be here.”

“And what if you forget?”

“Keithers, I would never forget.”

It sounds like a promise to hold onto so that tomorrow, when Keith gets on the Grey Hound and moves a million miles away, he won't be walking away from Lance forever. He won't be walking away from the best friend he’s ever had, with no chance of seeing again.

And even if they never see each other again until August 28th, 10 years from now, Keith feels satisfied. 

“‘Kay, but we gotta pinky swear on it,” Keith says, sticking his pinky up in the air. 

It’s just another promise, and as both boys know, a pinky promise can never be broken.

~

The next morning finds Keith sitting on the bench with a small garden shovel besides him and a backpack of some little items that he supposes hold “seminental value” as Lance called it. Keith’s pretty sure it’s _sentimental_ , but next to nothing in Keith’s small cabin has any of that, so he just grabbed the least junkiest items he could find. 

“So where d’ya wanna bury it?” Keith asks as Lance bounds into hearing range. He’s got his same old blue backpack bouncing around on his back, but this time, it’s accompanied by a similar coloured metal box held under one arm. 

“I was thinkin’ under this bench, get up.”

“Under the bench? How’re we gonna unbury it if we’re taller and bigger?”

“Ha, you? Bigger? Really funny.”

“I’m serious! We can barely fit under the bench as we are now!”

“Then we’ll move the bench, duh.”

A solid 2 minutes of grunting, pushing, complaining, and more pushing later, Keith makes the smart decision of checking under the bench. 

“It’s cemented in.”

“What?”

“The legs of the bench are cemented into the ground, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, I heard you. So, what?”

“‘So what’? We can’t move the bench to bury the capsule thingy if it’s cemented into the ground, you idiot!”

“I _know_ , so what are we gonna do?”

The boys settle on digging the hole below the great oak on the far side of the mountain top, the same tree that saw many fights, competitions, and bruises over the summers. The same damn tree that Lance’s clothes got ripped in so many times. The same damn tree that trips Keith up every time he walks a little too close to the out-poking roots. 

It’s a pretty memorable tree to say the least. 

By mid-afternoon, the hole is dug and Keith’s hair is plastered to his face, sweat dripping down his neck. The August heat alongside the humidity is making the air sticky and gross, causing Lance’s otherwise straight hair to start curling at the ends. 

“Think this is deep enough?” Lance asks, using the back of a dirt covered hand to wipe at his eyebrow. The action leaves a dirt streak on his cheek and across his forehead and Keith has to resist the urge to lean over and wipe it off. 

“Uh- Yeah. So now what?” 

Lance places the box into the hole, “now we throw some items in!”

Keith throws in a quarter, a pair of his dad’s ripped finger-less gloves, a black hair tie he stole from his mom, a Hubba Bubba gum wrapper with the cartoon comic still inside, and Lance's hand-me-down swimsuit, now faded and well-worn. 

Lances tosses in a beautiful blue seashell, a perfect skipping rock, a Hello Kitty Bandaid, and a tube of chapstick. 

They bury it as the afternoon sun beats down on them, with a lasting promise to meet again and open it years down the line. 

As a last memento, Keith pulls out two matching paracord bracelets that he made the night before and a lighter, and gives them matching burn bracelets. A blue one for Lance and a red one for Keith. 

“Just, here, so you have something to remember me by.” Keith says, shyly. 

“Aw Keithy, I don’t have anything to give to you now!” Lance’s eyes go wide as he spots something off in the distance, “wait! Wait here!” and he’s off, to the flower patch on the other side of the mountain top. 

Lance runs back holding something (a flower obviously, how dumb does Lance think he is?) behind his back, and when he’s close enough, “close your eyes, Keith”

As he closes his eyes, Lance slides a flower into Keith’s hair. 

“There, now open!” 

He does. Opens his eyes straight into Lance’s blue ones, barely a foot away. 

“Woah,” Lance says, “I was right, the purple realllllly matches your eye colour, did you know you have purple flecks in your eyes?! It’s so pretty!”

Keith feels a low blush start to creep its way up his neck so he absentmindedly rubs it, glancing away from Lance’s eyes to mumble a little “thanks..”

“Wait, lemme try something. Close your eyes again.”

Keith’s a little skeptical, because ‘lemme try something’ usually means Lance has a terrible idea he thinks will be awesome, but it’s Lance, as since when has Keith ever been able to say no to Lance?

“Ok, here goes…” Lance says, his voice much lower than it was a second ago.

Keith hears Lance inhale a shaky breath, senses him leaning in, and then before Keith can even register it, feels Lance’s lips brush gently against the corner of his mouth. 

It’s a fleeting kiss. 

Chaste. 

Over before he even knew it was happening. 

Lance’s lips are soft, warm, unlike anything Keith ever thought lips would feel like, and as Lance pulls away, Keith feels the blush work it's way across his full body. 

That was…

“There,” Lance says, his voice loud enough in the quiet atmosphere to startle Keith into opening his eyes. Lance’s moved a full foot back, far enough that Keith can finally take the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “There, now you’ll have something to forever remember me by.” Lance says, darting his eyes away from Keith's. 

“Lance…” 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Keith.”

“I-”

“Like so, so much. I’m not sure how I’m gonna survive next summer.”

“I know, Lance.”

“You better not forget me, okay?”

“Lance, I-” 

“I mean it! Don’t ever forget me!”

“I _know_ Lance, and you better not forget me either!”

~

Keith is 11 years old and he’s just had his first kiss. 

It’s soft, sweet, gentle, and says everything the boys can’t seem to say out loud. 

And he knows, after a first kiss like that, there’s no way in hell he’ll ever be able to forget him. 

~

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent_   
_Huddled far from the highway aisle_   
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice_   
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles_

~


	6. Age 13 and 14 - Days and Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to combine two ages into one long-ish chapter as opposed to two super short chapters. 
> 
> Also, the story's now caught up to where I'm currently writing, so updates are gonna be every other week from now on!!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with <3

~

Keith is 13 years old and feeling awkward in yet another new foster home. 

If he sticks his head out the window at just the right angle, he can just barely see the B.C mountain range far off in the distance. His little spot of paradise is now nothing more than a crystal clear memory - a part of him, apart from him. 

Keith feels the distance of it like a hole in the heart, but above all else, he feels angry. 

Sad, alone, and angry. 

There's too many boys and not nearly enough privacy or personal space in the foster home. For the first time in his life, he has to share a room with 8 other boys, the beds lined up on the walls, side by side by side. It makes Keith feel like he’s in an old army camp. That, and the strict way they have to complete all daily chores, leave the house at exact times in the morning, return to the house at exact times after school. It’s the exact opposite to the totally free life Keith’s been living for the past however many years; it feels like total agony. 

He doesn't get along well with the other boys in the foster home. They're always fighting when Keith wants nothing more than a moment of peace and quiet, always wanting something from him when he has nothing to give. Always chasing after him when he tries to walk away to get away. They’re constantly running to the foster Mother to tattle when they catch Keith trying to climb the tree outside his bedroom window, or climbing from the tree onto the roof. 

School isn't going too well either - there's no patient kids with brown hair and kind smiles, the teachers expect too much too soon, and Keith comes home with black eyes and dark bruises and failing grades. 

Keith’s got no trust left to give - every person who has ever meant something to him has left and Keith really doesn't want to go down that road of hurt again - so when someone tries to get closer, tries to get to know him, Keith builds walls and fights anyone who tries to tear them down. 

He blocks out the other students around him, and while it doesn’t leave him with a good reputation and no one help him suffer through the day, it does grant him at least some hours of total peace and quiet. Unfortunately though, the other kids don’t see it the same way Keith does, they think he’s being “rude”, “bookish”, and his tendency to be the lone wolf pisses off a lot of people. He works his way into getting the cold shoulder when he turns down the boys’ offers to play tag at recess, to bug the girls during class, day after day after day, and eventually, Keith becomes the target of the school. The girls think his blatant lack of interest in anything social is cool, aloof, mysterious, and charming. The boys hate him for the attention he receives from the girls because of it. And Keith’s angry, sad, and alone so of course he fights back. 

When Keith is sent home from school with yet another 3 day suspension for fighting, his current foster Mother is standing at the front door waiting for him.

“Keith, you know the rules. You cannot keep fighting! I can't have such a problem child under my roof, the younger boys need a good role model to look up to and you just aren't it!” She says. 

Keith just stands on the front walkway and stares at her shirt collar. 

This isn't anything new: just another familial figure to go and let him down. 

“I'm going to have to send you away, Keith. I can't have such an angry, fighting boy living with me anymore.” She says. 

Keith just stares, clenches and unclenches his fists and takes it, silently waiting for her to finish this overused lecture. 

“You do understand why I have to do this, Keith?”

Keith just stares, then nods, and walks inside to grab his duffel bag that he never bothered to unpack when he got here. 

It's nothing new, really, and Keith shouldn't feel as let down as he does: He saw it coming from a mile away, after all. 

Yet, for some reason, it still hurts. Still cuts into a part of him that he thought he got rid of after his dad stopped coming home the first few times. 

For the second time in his life, he feels like everything is falling apart, but this time, Lance isn't there to rescue him. 

Keith hates himself for feeling so disappointed. 

 

~

 

Keith’s 14, in his 3rd foster home and starting his first year at high school. Things haven’t changed much; he’s got no friends and feeling just as lonely and and alone and hopeless, and to make matters worse, he’s further from the mountains than ever before. 

It’s quieter here though, in this new place - Keith is the only foster kid living with Mr and Mrs Shirogane and their 17 year old son, Takashi. For the first time in what feels like forever, Keith’s got a room to himself and more than 2 outfits in his closet, and his duffel bag is unpacked and sitting folded up underneath his bed. 

He’s still got no trust - of adults or kids near his age - so he distances himself yet again and pushes Takashi away when he tries to get close. 

There’s something different about this new place though, something… almost familiar. So when Keith gets sent home with bleeding knuckles and yet another 3 day suspension for fighting, this time alongside a failed math test, he sees Mrs Shirogane waiting for him on the front porch. Instantly, he steels himself for another 'we have to let you go Keith, I just can't live with you anymore’ lecture. 

But instead, he's met with a look of disappointment with a touch of hopefulness on Mrs. Shirogane's face.

She walks down the porch steps to be more eye level with Keith. 

“Keith, I’ll be honest. I really didn't expect much different, but Keith, you have so much potential, so much pure talent that you just let go to waste. I really think you can do better than this, kiddo, I really do. I know you're angry, sad, alone, and you're looking for an outlet, but fighting with your friends isn't going to make it better. You're allowed to feel this way. You really are, I get that, but… taking it all out on the other kids doesn't work for me, and it's not working for you now is it? Come here, Keith, at least let me clean that cut around your eye, okay?” Is the lecture she says instead. 

Keith is lost for words for a while, just stands there opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, a dumbfounded look on his face. 

“So- So, I get to stay? You're not gonna kick me out?” He asks. 

“What? No, no of course not, honey. I'm just… a little disappointed is all.” she says with a touch of a light smile.

“Oh.”

Keith thinks that may be the nicest thing an adult has said to him in the longest time, so when he follows Mrs Shirogane into the bathroom and catches the hidden disappointment on her face as she sits him on the bathroom tub to clean his hands, he feels something weird pull in his chest.

When she brushes her soft hands against the deep bruises that litter Keith’s knuckles, he feels it as a strange kind of pull. One that has him feeling like he never wants to upset the Shirogane's again, out of fear of being kicked out of this oddly familiar place. 

Despite the new strange feeling in his chest, Keith is still angry, sad, and bitter, so he still fights but makes an effort to keep it to a minimum, he really does, and takes the fight off of school grounds when he finally snaps. 

He still fails some tests because he forgets to study for them, but he eventually works up the courage to ask Takashi for help as a last resort when he really, truly, doesn't understand something in math. When the novel he has to read for English has the words blurring on the page, the letters falling down and swimming around, he finds Takashi and they alternate reading chapters aloud. 

He still doesn't make any attempt to find friends or appear friendly at school, but Takashi often asks Keith if he wants to tag along when he hangs out with his friends. Keith declines, always, but just the offer is enough for Keith to feel that strange pull in his chest, and Takashi doesn’t stop asking. 

He still keeps his walls up high but, on the occasion where Takashi walks into a room to find Keith on the couch with his nose buried in a book and decides to join him, Keith finds that he lowers his guard a little, so that they can sit and read on opposite ends of the couch and be comfortable sitting in silence in each other's company. 

When they’re standing side by side in the kitchen, Keith drying the dishes that Takashi is washing, and Takashi starts to hum the lyrics to an old familiar song, Keith finds himself following along inside his head. It feels like they’re communicating in their own silent way. 

It’s a slow process - building trust - and Keith’s still healing. 

They're not friends, not yet anyway, but as the weeks pass Keith feels less and less like a burden, a tag along on trips to the farmers market, the corner store, Takashi’s hockey practices, and feels more and more like he’s finding his place to fit into. 

It takes a month, but Keith finally gives a little 'sure’ when Takashi asks if he wants to join in and play snow soccer with him and his friends. It’s awkward, and Keith feels out of place among the 12th graders who all call him ‘Shiro’s little brother’, but afterwards Takashi ruffles his hair and says he’s welcome to join them anytime he wants and the 12th graders all agree and slap him on the back or lightly shove his shoulder in that friendly, 12th grader kind of way as they walk past him to head home. 

Keith finds it hard to fight down a small smile and feels that strange pull in his chest again. 

He feels, dare he say, like he’s starting to become an actual part of the Shirogane family.

It’s a welcome feeling. 

~

At night, Keith falls into a restless sleep with his mother’s blade - the only memorabilia she left for him - tucked safely underneath his pillow, and dreams of a bench on a flat mountain top overlooking an icy lake. A boy with wild brown hair, lanky limbs, and eccentric blue eyes. A chaste kiss on the lips becoming something more. 

It morphs into anger, his feelings for Lance. He lays awake at night, replaying that kiss over and over again in his mind, until he starts getting pissed at Lance for kissing him _right before he had to freaking leave_. Like, who does that? And who the hell does Lance think he is to _just do that _, to just kiss him and then walk away, to leave Keith with this whole mess of feelings and memories that he won't ever be able to get rid of?__

__So it morphs to anger, then to homesickness, then regret, then into nothingness, where Keith plays it again only for a memory._ _

__He pushes that memory all the way to the back of his mind during his first make-out-in-a-bathroom-stall at his first party during his first year of high school. The girl’s tall, lanky, and she’s got blue eyes and long brown hair._ _

__She’s not Lance, definitely not, but Keith makes it work anyway._ _

__Makes it work in the way the he pushes down the lack of affection towards the girl as she lets her hands wander up Keith’s shirt, letting out a soft moan as her hands come to a rest on the toned body Keith’s worked hard to maintain._ _

__Makes it work when she pushes her tongue in between his lips, and Keith’s brain has to work in overtime to push down how much he doesn’t like how sticky the lip gloss makes her lips feel, how soft, curvy, and fragile her body feels underneath Keith’s roughed up hands. He reminds himself to breathe when her hands start sliding lower, until they get to his belt buckle and Keith has to grab them and awkwardly slide them up into his hair, lest she find out just exactly how not into this Keith really is._ _

__Internally, Keith pretends he’s somewhere else and they make out._ _

__Somewhere on a mountaintop in the old B.C wilderness, making out with a certain someone else instead. Someone with slightly chapped lips despite the chapstick they always carries with them, a toned body much like Keith’s own, long tanned limbs, short brown hair that looks especially soft to the touch. Keith doesn’t like it, but he dislikes the slurs that are thrown his way the longer and longer he goes without showing interest. So he breathes through his nose, lets his imagination run wild, and makes it work._ _

__His new life is… different, and he’s doing everything he can to hold it together._ _

__If Keith knows anything for certain, it’s that he doesn’t want to have to move again._ _

__~_ _


	7. Age 16 - Closer

_Age 16_

Keith is 16 and currently waking up to Shiro shaking his shoulder. It takes him a second to reorient himself, to realize that he’s still in the car, still on the highway, and Shiro hasn’t stopped shaking his shoulder yet.

“Hey, Keith? Keith? You awake yet?”

Keith swats the hand off his shoulder and pulls himself back into a proper seated position, adjusting the seat belt so it stops digging a line into his neck. He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and when he gets them to focus again, there’s a map wavering in front of his face. 

“Keith? I think we’re almost there, about to get off the highway, but I’m gonna need you to give me directions soon.”

Keith pulls his headphones down and fishes his phone out from the abyss between the seat and the front console to stop the music. Glancing once at the scenery whizzing by, Keith grabs the map and tosses it in the back seat. 

He’s lived here long enough to not need a map anymore. 

“Where’re we?” He mumbles, voice still thick with sleep, “what road?”

“I think it’s the -uh, trans-can? Trans-Canada highway? Uh, 1 or something?”

A passing highway sign answers Keith’s question faster and better than Shiro does, and Keith’s once again reminded that Shiro is The Worst at driving, and why Keith, with his beginners driver’s license, should have been the obvious choice for this trip. 

“This is why I should of drove, there’s literally only two roads you take to get there. You stay on this until you get to 5, and then you turn right. Simple.” 

“Mom would skin me alive if I let you drive this car. Absolutely not.”

“But I’m a great driver! And I at least know exactly where I’m going.”

“You are a great driver, if this was a race to get there and if breaking the sound barrier in the process was a requirement, you’d be the obvious choice.”

“Come on! I don’t drive _that_ fast, and the speed limit is only 90 anyway! You look super tired, you’ve been driving for what, 6 hours?”

“No.”

“But-”

“No.” 

~

Keith wakes up this time to the sound of tires moving slowly on a crisp gravel road with the familiar smell wafting in through the now open window. 

“Morning, Princess,” Shiro teases when Keith takes his feet off the dashboard and stretches his arm out the window, “almost there.”

Keith leans his head out the window and inhales a deep breath of the familiar BC Mountain air, fighting to keep the smile off his face when they pass the familiar sign marking the miles to Blue River Provincial Park. 

5\. 

5 miles and then he’s as close to home as he’s ever going to get again.

“You’re smiling.” Shiro says. 

“No ‘m not.” He replies but one quick glance over at Shiro confirms that he’s smiling too. 

They haven’t spent a lot of time together since Shiro’s been off at university, let alone been camping together. 

Of course they’re both excited. 

As Shiro makes the final turn into the provincial park driveway and slows the vehicle, crawling to a stop at the gatehouse, Keith’s mind is already gone. His body vibrating with excitement. 

The process at the check in, the registering for a site, the drive to the site, the setting up the site, all happens through a blur of methodological motions and movements, Keith’s mind too focused on finding and getting up the trail before it’s too late in the day. 

“Come on, let’s go already!” Keith urges as soon as the tent is up and their stuff is unpacked and layed out in it, “gotta be up there _before_ it gets dark, Shiro.”

Shiro just huffs a laugh, zipping up the tent. “Patience, patience, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, but the day is.”

Keith takes the elastic from his wrist and ties his hair into a low ponytail; the midday August heat already forming beads of sweat on his forehead. 

Despite having never used the trail to get up the mountain before, Keith finds his way to it no problem, almost running. He’s gotta constantly stop and wait for Shiro to put camera down and catch up, but less than half an hour later they’re stepping off the trail at Keith’s command, following an overgrowth path into a clearing, and then Keith’s running. 

Running past the large oak to the bench that he knows is up here. 

Up here, in Keith’s quiet spot everything is the same yet everything is different.

The bench that Keith’s feet could barely touch the ground years ago now seems a million times smaller - When he sits down, Keith’s flat-footed no problem. 

The mountain top, once covered with trampled grass and footprints, now has empty beer cans and food wrappers tangled in the long grass.

The view is the only thing that’s stayed exactly the same as Keith remembers - the same old trees, the same old barely visible cabin roofs, the same old mountains that line the lake below. The clouds, the sky, even the stars Keith imagines are the same. 

The longer he looks at it though - as Shiro catches up and leans on the bench to catch his breath - the view, like Keith, seems a million times older, quieter. Yet it seems prettier, more magnificent somehow. As if 4 years away from it has changed Keith more than he thought it did. 

“Wow,” Shiro breathes, “It’s beautiful.” 

As Keith does a full 360 and takes it all in, arms spread out wide, he mentally kicks himself for thinking the passage of time would leave this place blissfully untouched - 4 years later and of course things would change. 

Of course it would be empty. 

The more his eyes search the mountain top for something he knows isn’t gonna be there, the more Keith feels disappointed, and then comes the subsequent emotion of anger at that disappointment. 

_Idiot_ , he thinks. 

If Shiro senses Keith’s mood change, he doesn’t say anything. Just drops the backpack on the bench and pulls out a lunchbox and a blanket. 

They set the blanket up in the patch of flat grass to the right of the bench and dig into the lunch that Shiro packed them, enjoying the cool mountain breeze as it cools the sweat sticking their t-shirt’s to their backs. 

“It’s really pretty up here and all, but you did that hike every single day?” Shiro asks, incredulously. It’s as if university is zapping Shiro’s energy. Keith wonders if he still works out everyday. “It’s no wonder you’re skinny as a stick, did you ever eat?” Shiro chuckles, handing Keith his sandwich. It’s got mayo on it, he notices. 

“Yeah, except I took a different path up, what we did was Lance’s path. See the cabin down there, the one with the red roof?” He points to where his old cabin is just poking through the tree line, “roof used to be green, but that’s the old cabin. And there,” He points off behind them, to the thick cluster of trees concealing Keith’s old overgrown path, “is the trail I used to run up.” 

Shiro nods, impressed.

Under the slowly sinking afternoon sun, they talk about anything and everything, and Keith finds himself sharing more of his memories of this place than he’s ever done before. It feels good to talk about it, to share this space with someone else who means a lot to him, but there's a certain pang in Keith’s gut at the absence of a once familiar presence. 

So when they make their way to the inevitable topic that’s been hanging over both of their heads for a while now, and Shiro asks Keith if he’s put any more thought into what he wants to be when he’s older, Keith finds himself with his head tipped back, eyes on the sky, letting the breeze wash over him. 

“Astronomy, probably. Maybe I’ll be an astronaut, be among the first men to walk on mars.” He says, eyes bright - offering a rare bout of pure honesty.

Besides him, Shiro just smiles. 

~

Later that night, when they’re back at the campsite sitting in front of the campfire, Shiro starts telling Keith some of his craziest stories from being a first year university student. He tells him about all his sleep deprived friends, the bat-shit crazy professors who’d rather watch the students blow stuff up in their chem labs than teach them how to do the lab properly. As the night goes on, Shiro brings out a case of Molson Canadian from his car and offers Keith his first drink of alcohol. Between them, they finish off the whole 6 pack, watching the logs slowly burn down into crumbling ashes. They end up swapping stories from various parties, getting funnier and funnier as the night stretches on, until Shiro is describing his friend Matt’s disastrous first date with this ridiculously hot yet bat-shit crazy girl, like reaching Harley Quinn levels of crazy, and it shouldn't even be funny because it really, truly, doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, but Keith’s almost falling out of his chair because he’s laughing so hard and Shiro’s got tears streaming out of his eyes. 

Keith doesn’t think he’s ever had a night like this where he’s laughed so hard and felt so good in a long time. Too long of a time. 

That strange pull in his chest is back in full force, and Keith thinks he’s just beginning to figure out how to place a name to it. 

 

_Third and Lake it burnt away, the hallway_  
_Was where we learned to celebrate_  
_Automatic bought the years you'd talk for me_  
_That night you played me 'Lip Parade'_  
_Not the needle, nor the thread, the lost decree_  
_Saying nothing, that's enough for me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gettin pretty close to exam season over here so sorry if the updates are delayed for a little bit
> 
> Love you all <3


	8. Age 19 - Come Talk to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again and the world just keeps turning. On the outside at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Voltron may be over but my undying love for Klance is not, which is why the chapter count just rose by 2 and has every potential to rise by 2 more.
> 
> I'm sooo not ready to let my boys go just yet - pls send help

~

“Just go talk to him,” Shiro says, nudging Keith’s arm, “you’ll never know if it’s him or not until you just go over there and start talking.”

Keith knows it’s him. 12 years later and 30 feet away, the mess of brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and long, tan limbs is unmistakably the boy from his childhood. The boy who has frequented his dreams for the past 8 years. 

“Not when he’s surrounded by his friends!”

Keith steals another glance at Lance, sitting at an adjacent table in the astrophysics building’s library, surrounded by a group of people, studying. Lance tips his head back, laughing, and ruffles the hair of a small girl sitting right next to him. The girl pouts, crossing her arms over her small chest, and scoots her chair an inch to the left. Lance pulls her closer, wrapping a long tan arm around her shoulder, only to be pushed away again. 

“See! It even looks like he’s got a girlfriend!”

And why wouldn’t he? Lance’s golden legs, once too long and awkward, have filled out nicely, his arms and torso grown enough to balance out his body. The last time Keith had seen Lance, he’d still had a boyish look to him, but now, 6 years later, there’s none of that left, and Keith will internally admit that he looks good. Handsome, even. 

Shiro laughs. “No, God, no. That’s Pidge, Matt’s little sister. Remember how I’m always saying how much of a genius Matt’s little sister is? Well, that’s her right there. I’m pretty sure she’s asexual, or maybe it was aromantic? Or both…” Shiro says, trailing off, “anyway, they’re not dating.” 

Keith rips his eyes away from Lance’s table and focuses back on his chem textbook; he’s got a test coming up that he desperately needs to study for. 

“Can you explain these again?” He asks, even though he doesn't need Shiro's help. It's just to change the subject. 

Shiro gives him a look that says he knows exactly what Keith's doing, but stops his marking to lean over and re-explain the concept of accretion anyway. 

~

The next time Keith sees Lance (apart from spotting him from the back row of the lecture hall every Monday, he’s not stalking him, just keeping tabs. There’s a difference, okay?) he's in the cafeteria of Keith's residence building, a pile of textbooks spread across the table in front of him and a half eaten plate of food pushed off to the side. 

He's alone. 

Keith stands frozen on the spot for a bit, the fear of Lance not recognizing him and the fear of Lance being pissed at him prevents him from moving. Seeing Lance, his Lance, so close up and so real makes the old feelings of anger, dread, regret, and every other emotion he cycled through over the years streak its way through Keith’s heart. It takes a moment, but eventually Keith pushes his fears aside, shoves his feelings deep down, into a box, locks it, and with his heart in his throat, he walks over to Lance. 

He slides his plate onto the table to get Lance to look up. 

“Still planning on becoming an astronaut?” He asks when deep blue eyes flick up to meet his own. “Still wanna be the first man to walk on Mars?”

Deep blue eyes go wide and then Lance is up out of his seat, around the table, and wrapping Keith in a bone crushing hug in a matter of seconds. 

“Keith? Oh my god.” Lance says, pulling away to hold Keith at an arm's length. “Oh my- how did you- holy shit?!”

Keith laughs, any and all fears disappearing in an instant. “I said I'd find you.”

“Holy- I don't even know what- what are you doing here?!”

Keith laughs harder as Lance fumbles for words. “I was gonna find somewhere to eat and study, got a physics test tomorrow that's gonna kick my ass.”

No I - I mean same, physics kicks my ass every single day, but,” he gestures to the books and notes scattered around the table, “I mean, what are you doing _here_ here? Last I knew you were being shipped to Alberta.”

Lance sits back down, clearing his notes to make room for Keith to dump his textbook and slide into the opposite chair. 

This close, Keith can see the same cluster of freckles dusting Lance's cheeks and across the bridge of his nose that he saw years and years ago. Almost-adult-Lance looks so much more mature, but Keith can see a distinct childishness that stuck with Lance as he grew up. 

It's… _cute_. 

And all at once, The Feelings from so many years ago on that mountain top come rushing back in an instant, except Keith can finally identify it - it’s want. Pure want, and Keith’s not gonna walk away this time. 

“Well…” 

Keith thinks back 2 years to Shiro dumping a pile of college pamphlets on the table and telling him to pick a career. He remembers tossing out all the ones out of province, the ones which cost way more than he and Shiro could ever spend, and keeping all the local ones, the ones for space programs. The Alberta and BC pamphlets stayed on the table and in the back of Keith's mind for weeks - in hopes that maybe one certain brown haired, blue eyed, golden boy would also stay local - until Shiro got a job in BC, in the physics program at Garrison U, and Keith instantly knew that's where both of them belonged; if there was any chance of seeing Lance again, it would be at the Garrison. Keith remembers the desperation in his voice and the unwavering certainty of his mind when he told Shiro he had made his choice.

Keith looks back at Lance and smiles softly. “Garrison U’s got the best astrophysics program around, and besides, Shiro, my uhh, my fo- my brother, is a T.A. here. So I guess I made it easier for both of us and followed him.”

It's sort of the same reasoning Keith gave Shiro 2 years ago. Not the whole truth, but certainly part of it. 

“Wow, must be fate or some shit. I honestly thought I'd never see you again, you left without giving me anyway of ever hearing from you! But, damn, nine years later and here you are.”

Keith wants to say something ridiculously cheesy but he really doesn't believe in fate so, “So yeah, what are you doing _here_ here? Are you… are we in the same program?” He ends up saying instead. 

Lance smiles a little shamefully and the familiarity of it almost makes Keith forget that they're in university and not sitting on that bench, 8 years younger, talking about their big hopes and dreams for the future. 

“Yeah, you got me, I'm still holding onto naive 6 year old Lance's dream of walking on Mars one day, so math, science, all that crap is gonna be my life for the next 4 long years.” Lance says. 

“Probably longer, if you wanna be the next, better version of Neil Armstrong.”

“True, oh god, true. I'm going to die by the end. Cause of death - suffocation by science.”

“Don't think that's a thing.”

“Is too-”

“Nope.”

“-and I'm going to die from it.”

Keith laughs, again, giddy to know that they're falling right back into their usual routine of bickering. Giddy to know that Lance is still as dramatic as ever. That they can still exist, be _them_ and not be awkward as fuck. 

“So uh, did you wanna maybe study together? I've gotta go in an hour or so but uhh…” 

“Sure.” Keith says, cracking open his physics book. “Can we start with eigenvalues? Professor Coran speaks so damn fast sometimes and it's all gibberish I swear. I’ve no fucking clue what he's talking about half the time and google isn't helping at all.”

It's Lance's turn to laugh.

“Still need Lancey Lance to help you out with those big bad science problems, eh?” He coos.

Keith leans over the table and swats Lance's head, a ridiculously large grin spread on both their faces. 

Keith feels like they're two gears finally fitting back into the perfect groove they've created over the years. 

Everything is different yet everything is still the same as it always was, and Keith hasn't felt this good in years. 

~ 2 weeks later ~

“So, do you wanna go to this party with me and some of my friends? Pidge’s gonna be there because Matt’s gonna be there, and Shiro’s probably gonna be there because Matt’s there, so you should totally come,” Lance asks, finally giving up the act of pretending to study. 

For the last half hour he’s been tapping his fingers, bouncing his knee, and staring out the window more often than the pages flipped open in his textbook. His mind clearly focused on something other than physics. 

Keith takes comfort in the fact that Lance’s hyperactivity hasn’t left him since childhood. 

They’re at a cafe about a 5 min or so walk from campus, studying together for the nth time in the last two weeks. Beyond the daily in-class greetings, the occasional study session before a large test, and the hourly text messages, they’ve yet to really get together and hang out - as friends - so it takes Keith a minute to process the question. 

Keith is, by no means, a party person. Social get-together's or anything of the sort is the furthest from his _thing_. Social get-together's with alcohol and possibly illicit drugs? Even further out of his comfort zone. He’d much rather stay in and read a book, play some games, watch some movies, by _himself_. 

But. 

“It’s this Friday night, in the Lambda frat house, you know where frat row is, right? It’s one of the better houses on the block, trust me, I’ve seen a few,” Lance is continuing. “My buddy Hunk is also coming, he usually brings the best snacks, home baked even.”

Keith is, by no means, a party person.

And a frat party? Even worse, from what he’s heard. 

But.

“And since Pidge is probably gonna be there, you’ll at least know someone other than me. And Hunk, you’ll be closest friends with that guy in no time, he’s the friendliest genius I have ever met. ”

But, this is Lance. And when has Keith ever been able to say no to Lance, anyway?

Lance pauses and Keith takes it as his que to provide an answer to the original question. 

“That’s like, in two days isn’t it?”

“Yeah, this Friday. If you’re anything like you were 8 years ago, you’re probably thinkin’ up some devious plot not to come, but seriously, you should consider it!” 

“Consider it considered.”

“Keith! That’s hardly an answer! Just think, we’ll be done our physics test by then so we can use it as an excuse to celebrate, to let loose!” 

“Yeah, uh, ok. I’ll… text you? And let you know?”

“You better. You can even pre with me, Hunk, and Pidge, get to know them a little bit more. And honestly, I think Pidge hates people even more than you do, she just comes along to get all the dirt on me she can.”

Keith smirks at that. From what he’s seen of Pidge so far, from sitting with Lance’s group of friends to Lance bringing him along for study sessions, he can 100% see Pidge doing that. She’s like that; sassy as hell. A genius, too. _The Devil’s 4 foot incarnate_ as Lance once described her. _Katie, Matt’s prodigy of a little sister_ as Shiro once described her. _It’s Pidge, actually_ as Pidge once described her. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” Lance says, catching the smirk. 

“Me? No, never.”

~

From his perch against the wall, Keith has a perfect view of the whole living-room-turned-dance-floor. He can see the couple over in the corner pushing the limit of PDA, the dance circle with a tall, tanned boy break-dancing in the middle, the group of sketchy looking guys sitting on the couches eyeing the group of barbie doll looking girls mingling in the doorway, the frat brothers smoking with some others out on the front step.

The guy break-dancing in the middle of the circle catches Keith eye as he sweeps his gaze over the crowd again. 

Keith doesn’t know a whole lot about dancing, but Lance looks like he’s damn good at it. The circle surrounding him seems to think so too, if the whooping and hollering is anything to go by. The crowd surges in cheer as Lance pulls off a flawless body roll, his hips working up a storm. 

Keith can just barely make out the blushes spreading across the faces of the girls standing at the edge of the circle. 

From his perch on the wall, Keith shamelessly watches Lance dance. Watches the way his hips sway and swish to the way-too-loud electric bass. The low lighting on the house highlights his features in all the right places and his clothes hang tight to his body in all the right ways. All Keith can focus on is his face; the smirk playing on his lips as he dances seductively over to the nearest girl group, the sharp cheekbones, the long neck. There's just something about the way Lance is dancing that catches Keith’s interest and holds it, preventing him from moving on. The way his hips move in time with the beat is mesmerizing, and Keith can’t - won’t - bring himself to look away. 

And fuck, is this even legal? 

Are human hips even supposed to move like this? 

This guy has got to be some kind of superhuman dance machine. And it might just be the alcohol talking, but Keith's never seen anyone dance like this before in all 19 years of his life. 

The songs switch and Lance just keeps on dancing, his style switching up as the beat does, but the role of his hips and the smirk on his face remains unchanging. As he pulls off some sort of intense dance move, the small group of ladies around him holler and clap even louder, and Lance's smirk changes into a full blown grin. 

He’s such a ladies man, its unreal. 

And suddenly, before Keith can stop the intrusive thoughts, he can’t help but think how he wants to kiss that grin off his stupid face. Run his hands all over those goddamn hips. Claim them.

Nope, nuh uh uh, not today gay thoughts. 

Not about Lance of all people. 

No, Nie, Nien. Niiiieeeeeeennnnn. 

Keith watches him dance all the way up until Lance glances over to where Keith is leaning against the wall, catches his eye, adjusts his snapback, and - honest to fucking god - winks. 

And the spell is broken. Just like that. 

Keith tears his eyes away. Forces himself to push away from the wall, ducking his head to hide the blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks. 

And fuck, Keith should not be getting so flustered from a simple wink. Even if the boy who winked at him was unnaturally hot, Keith didn’t - doesn’t - get flustered from dancing people. Especially when said dancing person happens to be his long lost childhood best friend who maybe, just maybe, is flirting with him. If that’s even what you can call it. 

Lance’s _straight_ for fuck’s sake, right? 

It’s the alcohol.

It must be. He really should have taken Pidge and Hunk up on the offer to stay in and play Overwatch all night. 

~

The rest of the night passes in a blur of flashing colours, neon lights, and funny tasting drinks. He ends up playing beer pong with Lance. Him and Lance against that James kid and what’s his name (Kin- something, Keith's not even gonna try), some frat kids who think they're good. He doesn’t remember the final score, but he does remember feeling smug af and the sheer joy on Lance’s face, arms thrown around Keith’s neck, and a too loud, too close shout, so they must have won. 

The night is a blur but Keith’s somewhat there as more drinks get pressed into his hand, as he finds himself pressed up against Lance’s tan shoulder and tan thigh on a patio couch as a joint makes its way around the circle, as Lance ushers him along, out the door, and onto the sidewalk, as the cool spring air hits him and sobers him up a little to remember a long, chilly walk back to the dorms, and a nice warm comfy bed. 

And then nothing as he gives in to the sweet pull of sleep.

~

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent,_  
_High above the highway aisle,_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice,_  
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles._

~

Keith is 19 years old and just waking up to the _worst_ hangover of his life. His head pounds, his mouth is dry, and he honest to god wants to die. He thought the hangover from hell he suffered from the last time he went out partying was bad, but this? This fucking blows. And not in the good way. 

Keith curses the stupid fucking idiot who left the curtains open last night as he cracks an eye open only to get blinded by the morning sun. 

_Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,_ he mutters as he squeezes his eyes closed, sits up, and crosses the room zombie-like as he blindly throws an arm out, groping the air until his fingers land on material and he yanks the curtains closed. 

Once the room is covered in blissful darkness once more, Keith sighs and flops face first back down on the bed, pulling the covers all the way up over his head.

And yeah, drugs and alcohol are _really_ not a good mix. 

The second time Keith wakes up, it’s to his phone buzzing super loudly on his bedside table, rattling every single item within a 15cm radius. 

Keith’s brain is still lost somewhere out in the hazy land of the unconscious, so he takes his phone, without opening his eyes or allowing any logical thoughts to cross his mind, and just fucking chucks it.

It hits the opposite wall and immediately shuts up with a resounding thud, and Keith’s one brain cell is waking up enough to hope he didn’t break the damn thing. 

God knows he doesn’t have enough money for a new phone right now. 

Groaning, Keith throws an arm out, groping blindly for the water and Advil he knows sober Keith left on the bedside table before heading out last night. 

God fucking bless Sober Keith.

Downing the glass in one, Keith slowly opens his eyes again. He’s still wearing the same outfit from last night except his red jacket is lying on the floor and his converse are haphazardly strewn around the room. As Keith throws the covers off and swings his legs over the side of the bed, his muscles groan and ache in protest, and he’s instantly reminded of why he never wants to go out. Of why partying with Lance and his frat friends is never a good idea. Of why staying in and gaming with Pidge and Matt would have been a so much better one. 

Keith finds his phone on the floor, on the other side of the room, to a blissfully uncracked screen and 5 missed calls. All from Shiro. There’s no voicemail, so Keith assumes it's nothing all too important. 

He shoots Shiro a quick ‘I'm alive, what do you want’ text and starts the tedious process of taking slept-in skinny jeans off his legs. 

After pulling sweatpants on, changing shirts, and quickly brushing his teeth, Keith deems himself appropriate to head down to the cafeteria for breakfast.

You’d think that after the first few parties in both high-school and Uni, Keith would be used to this feeling of deadness in the mornings, but yet here he is, feeling like he’s just crawled up from the pits of hell for the first time in his life. 

He’s pretty sure that’s what he looks like, anyway. 

Like usual, most of the night comes back to him in a blur of flashing colours, of bright smiles, of strong drinks, light touches, a hazy glow of a memory in the side of his brain. 

But this time, there’s another hazy memory alongside the other ones, a hazy flash of a body dancing too close to his own, a strobe-like remembrance of grinding, pushing, reeling. Of hips, soft smiles, heated eyes, and lips. 

Soft. Warm. Hazy. 

A drop dead gorgeous face, long limbs, blue tank top. 

Soft, tan hands pushing his t-shirt up. 

Hips, grinding against his own.

Lips, pressing, sliding. 

Keith’s brain hurts way too fucking much to dig into those blurry memories, and besides, that’s oddly too similar to dreams he’s had in the past anyway. So he pushes those… whatever that was… aside and focuses on food instead.

He officially fully appreciates the cookie bar that seems to be open 24/7 and the till noon breakfast station; a caf cookie and 4 pieces of bacon are the only thing he seriously wants right now. 

A bacon cookie and a 12 hour nap.

...Wait, no. 

Are bacon-cookies a thing?

Keith thinks they sure as hell should be; Hunk should really get on that.  
~

He meets Pidge and Hunk in the caf, a huge pile of scrambled eggs in front of Pidge, and an artfully crafted waffle in front of Hunk. 

“Yo,” Pidge says when Keith slides into the adjacent chair, “how was last night? I heard some _interesting_ things.” 

And Keith does not like that devious smirk on her face nor the anime-styled sparkly tint of her glasses. 

He offers a quick nod to Hunk whose face is too stuffed to give a proper greeting. 

“I feel like death. Regretting not taking you guys up on that Overwatch offer.”

“Oh I don’t know, I heard it was the party of the year, apparently Lance got it on with some guy.” Pidge continues. 

_Wait_ \- _what?_

“Some guy? Isn’t he straight. And dating that Nyma chick?”

“Strai- oh my god- are you. Dude- have you been living under a rock your whole-”

“Pidge,” Hunk warns, putting the fork full of food down to softly glare at her, “I’m surprised he hasn’t said anything, Keith.”

“What Hunk means is that _he’s_ surprised you’re too dense to figure it out. Lance is bi as fuck, even a toddler from a strict christian family can see it.”

“What the fuck” Keith mutters. _What_. _The_. _Fuck_. 

“You know what,” he says, pushing the untouched plate towards Hunk, “I gotta go.” And he’s up, out of his seat, walking away before anyone has a chance to reply. 

He really, really needs a nap. 

~

(“what… was that?” Hunk asks, brow furrowing in mixed confusion and concern, “do you think he’s... Homophobic. Was telling him a mistake?”

“No, no, omg, no” Pidge slams her glass down and rushes to cover her mouth. She’s laughing so hard her entire body is shaking and she’s super concerned about the swig of milk in her mouth. Her nose and throat burn when she finally swallows and gulps in some air to laugh some more. “Nope, not homophobia at all, in fact, I think we just things up. Keith’ll be thanking _us_ soon.”

“Oh, _oh_ , you think he.. they-”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what that was.”

“Ohhh, so you think they’ll-”

“I'm giving em 2 weeks.”

“Nah I’ve got zero faith in Lance, like I love him almost as much as I love the cookies in this caf - and that’s saying something - but come on, with _Lance?_ 5 bucks says it’ll take 4 weeks at the earliest.”

“Okay, you’re on.”

“Ohho, Pidge. This’ll be interesting...”)

~

And okay, so Keith really doesn’t remember much from last night, but it’s fine because he’s fine, Lance is fine, and together, they’re fine, the Advil has kicked in and is doing its job. So all in all, it’s _fine_. 

When they meet up to run through chem problems later that afternoon it’s as if nothing's changed even though Keith feels like he’s looking at Lance through a totally different lens, like he’s finally letting himself see Lance that way after years of denying himself the right to.

He notices little things that he definitely didn’t before; from the little flirtatious wink Lance sends the blonde haired barista as he slides their drinks across the counter, to the slight way Lance tucks that one strand of hair behind his ear when he’s deep in thought. 

And of course Lance looks fine after a night of heavy partying - looks like he got 8 full hours of sleep, as opposed to a probable 3 or less, and looks like he had time to perform a full skin care routine and dress to impress. 

Really, Lance always looks more than good these days and it's _just_ starting to become a problem.

~


	9. Age 19 - Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This was a quest for alcohol, after all." 
> 
> \-- Things happen, Keith gets a little tipsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My exams are done and I am done and I finished the chap early :)
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays you guys!! See you all in the new year <3

~ Age 19 - part 2 ~

A week passes uneventfully, packed tight with normal boring uni-life stuff. It’s a cycle of stress, wake up get to class, stress, go home do homework, stress, write essays, do math, chem, physics problems, stress some more, sleep, wake up briefly feeling calm before reality sinks in again and then it’s back to stressing. Rinse and repeat x10. 

It’s exhausting and the boys just want a break from it all. 

Which is how Keith finds himself pressed thigh to thigh with Lance in a tiny bar tucked away on the main strip, a good 15 minute walk from campus, at 2:30am on a fresh Thursday morning. And they’re just fucking thankful to be here, honestly, finally in a bar, finally drinking after walking around the entire 10 block radius of Lance’s apartment building for a solid hour. 

And of course it’s packed and super fucking loud. Of course. 

The night had started with Lance - as most nights seem to do these days, Keith thinks - and a simple request to go out and get something to drink. Simple, Lance had said. Nothing crazy, Lance had said. 

In hindsight, Keith should have seen it coming from a mile away. 

 

It’d been 9:00 and Keith was lounging on Lance’s couch, chem textbook spread open on his lap. 

“Hey,” Lance had said from the other end of the couch, “I wanna do something. You wanna do something?”

And no, Keith really didn’t want to do something, he didn’t even want to move. He was comfortable, actually, and he’d had about 10 pages left to read. 

“I really wanna go out, man. Nothing crazy, but I seriously want some alcohol.”

Keith had raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that going out with Lance has been anything but simple so far, and ‘nothing crazy’ has always turned into some extraordinary, absurd plot that leaves them out till the wee hours of the morning. But... Lance. And Keith knows he’s got a weakness for Lance. 

He knows, ok?

“We could just go to this little tiny bar on the other side of campus, the Pilot, you’ve heard of it right?” Lance had said, still going on. 

“Lance.”

“Hm?”

“It’s a Wednesday night in the middle of exam season. Also, it’s negative a million degrees outside right now.”

“It’s like, 12 degrees and we’ve got a full two weeks before our first exam, Keithers, and when’s the last time you went out? I haven’t been out in like, 4 full days!”

To summarize a long dragged out story in a few simple words, Keith had his coat on, shoes on in a matter of minutes and was following a smug looking Lance out the front door by no later than quarter to 10. 

And that was only the beginning of the night, just a simple quest for alcohol. 

The first place they’d tried was a simple, dingy bar literally a few dozen steps from Lance’s apartment building. The Pilot. Nothing special, just like Lance had said. 

Upon getting there, however, sitting and a table with a big drinks menu spread out on the table in front of them, Lance (because of course it was Lance) realized that wow, he had forgot his fucking ID. And Lance, because it’s Lance, does not look a day over 18 let alone 19, the legal drinking age in BC. 

Needless to say, the waitress was very polite in asking them to leave, and the walk of shame back to Lance’s wasn’t super terrible despite Lance’s grumbling the whole time. And it was 12 degrees so Keith was just fine in the light crop jacket he had on. 

Back at Lance’s with the ID safely tucked into an empty spot in Keith’s wallet - because “Keith,” lance had said, exasperated, “I literally cannot carry my wallet on me, it’ll actually ruin my aesthetic. You see this? Can’t be ruined by a wallet.” - the boys had agreed on Jack Astor's, a restaurant that should be quiet and calm on a Wednesday night and should still be open and able to serve them alcohol at 11:00. 

Because this was a quest for alcohol, after all. 

So the boy’s had it up on google maps, only a short, 15 minute walk. 

Fine, right? Yeah, right. 

And the walk wasn’t so bad, Lance was talking Keith’s ear off but what else is new and it had been indeed 12 degrees so Keith was fine in just the light sweater he had on. 

Upon getting there however, Keith almost ran smack into Lance’s back as he’d stopped abruptly at the base of the steps.

Lance’s look of absolute horror will forever be ingrained into Keith’s brain now though, no matter how unfunny it was in the moment and absolutely hilarious it is 2 hours later. 

 

“It’s… It’s closed.” Lance had said. 

And honestly, Keith was too used to being fucked by the universe to find this situation anything but typical. 

“Typical, fucking typical.” He’d said. 

“Omg, I literally just want some alcohol! That is it!”

“I’m pretty sure Shiro’s got beer in his fridge if you just wanna head back to his place, it’s like maybe 10 minutes from here.”

“I’m gay, Keith, I don’t drink beer.”

“Thought you were bi?”

“Technicalities, technicalities” Lance had waived a hand in front of Keith’s face, “I’m at least half gay and full unable to drink beer.”

By this point it was 11:30 because Lance, as much as you’d think otherwise, Lance, with his (ridiculously) crazy long legs, is actually a slow walker. 

Keith wants to pick him up and fucking chuck him sometimes.

Anyways, where was he? As of recent, Keith keeps finding himself lost on the subject of Lance, one minute he’ll be thinking of some random un-Lance related thing and a moment later, he’s tripping over thoughts of those tanned long legs or those blue eyes. 

Keith thinks - knows - it’s probably the alcohol talking tonight, but he’s got nothing for the times when it happens and he’s unfortunately unbearably sober. 

Maybe Lance is right, he should go out more often. 

Oh, right. Lance.

Lance had forgot his ID and then, closed. The restaurant had been closed.

Right. 

So, to make another long story short, and because Keith’s forgetting some of the details as his third shot of the night makes its way into his body, they’d ended up deciding to walk down some of the popular streets to try and spot a place that didn’t look too sketchy. 

Which is how they’d ended up here; a tiny yet packed little bar tucked into the shadows of the many expensive shops with dark stores and illuminated display cases. It didn’t look like much from the outside but once they’d had their ID’s checked and were through the door, the place opened up into a loud and rowdy bar full of middle-age men and women dressed in businesses attire, clearly here for a night out after a long, hard day of work. Alta? Altea? Something like that. 

They’d managed to squeeze themselves into one empty stool in the middle of the bar, which is where Keith’s at now, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder with Lance. Three now empty shots of Jameson sitting on the bar top in front of them. It’s not the best whiskey out there, but it’s drinkable and it’s cheap and that’s all Keith’s asking for, really. 

“Honestly,” Lance says, leaning in close to Keith’s ear to be heard over the loud chatter that surrounds them, “honestly I’m just glad to finally get some alcohol.” 

At that, Keith’s gotta agree. 

“Mission accomplished, right?” He says, offering Lance a small smile. 

“Heck ya! Mission more than accomplished Keith, we’ve got alcohol and a whole night to waste!”

And they do. Waste most of the night. 

If anything, the bar keeps getting busier and busier as the night drags on, and Keith gets pressed closer and closer to Lance. Closer, until their shoulder to shoulder, side to side, thigh to thigh, and Keith can feel the muscles in Lance’s side move as Lance speaks in his animated way. Close enough to see the freckles that dust Lance’s nose, the colour dancing across his cheeks. Close enough for Keith to watch himself, monitor where he’s looking so he doesn’t get caught staring, checks himself so he doesn’t hyper-fixate on every shift of Lance’s body against his own. 

Which is hard, because Keith’s a little tipsy. And his cool, calm, collected manor is harder to uphold when he’s tipsy, but he’s gotta hold it together because Lance looks _damn good_ sitting in this bar tonight, and for some unknown reason Keith wants Lance to know just how good he looks. 

Really, Lance always looks more than good these days and it’s starting to just maybe become a little bit more than a problem. 

But, you know, he’s got this. 

It is getting busier. And louder by association. So much so that Keith’s gotta lean in even closer and Lance’s gotta lean in _even_ closer even though he’s loud enough to begin with, and Keith’s starting to appreciate that closeness maybe a little too much. He’s especially appreciating the warmth in Lance's voice, Lance’s body when another cold breeze drafts over them as the door opens for another group of young adults. 

They’re like magnets, really, with the way they keep instinctively moving closer. 

Keith’s stomach twists and tightens a little bit more every time Lance’s side moves and shifts against his own, and as the night goes on (as nights tend to do) Keith gives up the fight to stop the smile stretching his mouth wide when he thinks Lance isn’t looking directly at him. It doesn’t take long for Lance to throw an arm around Keith’s shoulder and it takes even less time for Keith to take that as an invite to snuggle into his side. 

~

“Hey,” Lance says, sometime around 1:30, “wanna get outta here?” His voice is inviting and -

He’s not asking for- 

Is he-

“I’m super fucking tired now man, got no stamina when it comes to loud bars. You wanna walk back? I’m seriously craving my bed right now.”

Oh-

Right, of course. 

He wasn’t-

“Uh, uh yeah. Yeah, that’s cool, we can go.”

“Yeah?” 

Duh, why would he-

“No, yeah, that’s fine.” 

And the night draws to a close (as nights tend to do) and when they part ways at the intersection, Keith feels like something is missing. It’s in the way Lance holds tight when they briefly hug goodbye. In the way Keith’s hand lingers in the air as he returns Lance’s cute wave. 

There’s _something_ hovering in the air, and Keith hopes Lance can feel it too. 

When he finally gets back to his room, Keith sleeps like the dead for the first time in a long while, and dreams of the night ending very differently.

And the night goes on. 

~

In hindsight, Keith should have seen it coming. 

Should have seen it coming, like the small but impactful text he receives not long after he wakes up:

_yo Keithers, I found this little trail to a waterfall while I was out explorin the other day_

_we should toats check it out this weekend if ur free_

_It’s not our mountain top but it’s somethin lemme tell ya_

It’s not a double text, it’s a Triple Text. 

In hindsight, Keith _really_ should have seen it coming. 

~


	10. Age 20 - Water Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet at Lance's hideaway this time. This time, it'll take more than a few thousand miles to separate them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is a strong contestant for 'favorite chapter of the fic' award imo, it practically wrote itself and I'm so, so proud of it. However, it wasn't supposed to be 5k but, what can ya do. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

~

Keith’s 20 years old and taking the bus down to meet up with Lance on a hot July afternoon at a small little conservation area not too far from Garrison U. 

Lance has got a small blue backpack slung across his shoulders and a smile that deepens once he looks up from the map he’s holding. His eyes track Keith’s as he hops off the bus and makes his way to other side of the parking lot. 

“Hey,” Keith says as he walks closer, “I’m not even a little surprised that you still have that backpack.”

“It’s a great backpack Keith, they’re built to last ya see.”

“I see.”

“It’s got everything I need in it, and I mean _everything_.”

Lance hasn’t stopped grinning yet and it doesn’t take Keith long to match it, gaze getting caught on the way the mid-afternoon sun is messing with the shades in Lance’s hair, making him want to reach out and ruffle it. 

“Well, you ready to go?” Lance asks, folding the map up and putting it back in the box on the trail-head. “It’s nothing like the mountain top you’re used to, but trust me, it’s something.”

“You- you’re not gonna take the map with you?”

“Nope, I’ve got a pretty good idea of where I wanna go, been planning on taking you here for a while actually,” Lance says, simply shrugging as he turns to start the trail. “Besides, it’s gonna take us less than 10 minutes to get there and you trust me, don't you?” He asks, tossing a careless wink over his shoulder. The action goes straight to Keith’s gut, like most of Lance’s casual actions have been doing lately.

Keith gwuaffs at Lance’s back and jogs a little so that they’re walking side by side on the thin trail. Keith chalks it up to pure accident when Lance’s shoulder bumps into his own and watches Lance’s face intently when he ‘accidentally’ bumps his shoulder right back. If anything, the tips of Lance’s ears get a little red, but that could just be the heat of the day, or Keith projecting. 

“We’re almost there,” Lance says about 10 minutes up the trail, “just gotta do a little bushwhacking through this shit now.” He ducks off the main trail, pushing his way through a thick bush which conceals an even thinner trail leading deeper into the forest.

Keith just hums in reply and ducks after him, long past the point of worrying if Lance was purposely getting them lost just to leave Keith alone and run off laughing. It’d be a totally Lance thing to do, but somehow, somewhere along the way, Keith discovered a shred of trust for Lance and he’s taken to holding onto that instead of praying that they’re walking in the right direction. 

The path is covered with overgrown grasses, weeds, and tree roots that threaten to trip Keith at every step. Above them, tree branches hang low over the path that smack Keith in the face every time Lance swats a branch out of the way, letting go of it before Keith has a chance to grab it himself. It’d be annoying if Keith didn’t know Lance was doing it on purpose to get a reaction from him. So he deliberately keeps quiet and gets his revenge later, when Lance is too busy walking backwards to gush about something dumb - face to face for added dramatics of course - and Keith neglects to warn Lance about the low tree branch that smacks Lance across the back of his head when he backs right into it. Lance turns back around pouting and mumbling “asshole”, and Keith absolutely _does not_ laugh his ass off while offering insincere condolences. 

“We’re almost there.” Lance bites out, grumbling, but even from behind him, Keith can tell Lance’s trying really hard to fight a smile off his face. 

Sure enough, less than 2 minutes later, a rumbling noise gets a little more distinct as rushing water, and the thin stream they’d been following widens into a small pool that’s fed by water tumbling over a sharp ledge, barely 15 feet above. 

Besides the tumbling water and the chirping of the birds, it’s quiet.

Quiet, peaceful, and serene. 

It’s not the peaceful mountain top of their childhood, but Lance was right; it’s _something_. 

“Woah,” Keith says as he steps into the mini clearing, eyes going wide. “How the hell did you find this?”

The walk up was nothing tough but Keith can’t help but feel a little breathless as he follows Lance over to the flat rock near the edge of the pool, mimicking him as Lance begins to strip his shoes and socks off. 

“Honestly, google maps and TripAdvisor was a huge help. Wanna go swimming?”

“TripAdvisor? Really?”

“Excuse me, TripAdvisor is the fucking bomb-”

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit, or a towel.”

“-so don’t you even start dissing it. And, Keithers, my man, you do _not_ need a towel, it’s like, a million degrees out here, and you’ve got boxers on, right? See, no problemo.”

And yeah, yeah he does have boxers on. And yeah, it is stinking hot, even up the trail away from the heat of the city. And really, any idea which leads to seeing Lance shirtless is, by association, a good one, Keith thinks. 

“Besides, you really need a bath to clean up all,” he waves a vague hand at Keith’s hair, “that... mess... You look like you’ve been hit with a few trees, Mullet Boy!” 

“Yeah and I wonder why that is, asshole!”

His hair is undoubtedly covered in twigs and leaves if the state of Lance’s hair is anything to go by. He reluctantly runs a hand through his hair and then bends over to shake it out and let the remnants of the forest leave his hair and flutter to the ground. He certainly doesn’t miss the loud laugh that Lance lets out at the action, and he’s preparing to unleash a whole load of insults on Lance when he stands and glances at Lance and abruptly forgets everything he was gonna say. 

Lance is standing across from him in the process of slipping his jeans off, his tan thighs on display, and Keith feels a spike of nervous anticipation run through him. Oblivious to the total shutdown currently happening in Keith’s brain, Lance is just powering on, hopping to yank his last foot free, tossing his jeans on the rock, then reaching, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift motion that leaves Keith suddenly feeling way too warm in his state of full dress and Lance’s state of near nakedness. 

“You gonna get changed or what?” Lance says, bringing a hand up to flatten down his hair that his t-shirt just disrupted, the action dislodging a twig in the process. 

And that’s all it takes to get Keith moving, for his brain to power back up and kick start his body into motion. To tear his eyes off of Lance’s bright pink, watermelon covered boxers and tanned stomach, to throw his shirt and shorts off and loosen his hold on the bundle of nerves in his throat. 

By the time Keith’s clothes are off and his hair - which is, for the last time, Lance, _not a freaking mullet_ \- is up in a ponytail out of the way, Lance has already dove on in and is floating on his back in the middle of the pool, eyes closed. 

(What Keith misses, however, is the heavy gaze that Lance had on him while he was undressing, and if he was paying just a little more attention, Keith wouldn’t have missed the slight blush that tints Lance’s cheeks and makes the tip of his ears bright red when he hurriedly flips to his back and closes his eyes.)

The sight alone of Lance floating on his back in the water takes Keith back 8 years to a very familiar sight and the hours that pass are reminiscent of old days spent in the lake at the bottom of their mountain.

~

“Want to make a contest game-y thing out of this?” Lance asks as he climbs up to stand on one of the logs that’s helplessly moving round and round, caught in the weak undertow from the waterfall. He almost loses his balance the second he stands up and has to crouch down to hold himself steady while he shakes water out of his hair. 

“Heh,” Keith snorts, “like what? I’d say nothing boring or stupid but this is you, after all.” 

“Gwua- Hey! My games are great thank you very much!”

“Okay, okay, let’s hear one then!” Keith laughs, swimming over to the log. 

“We could.. Uh… we could-”

“Uhum, great game.”

“You- Keith!” Lance yelps at Keith swims closer and shakes his log, nearly causing Lance to lose his balance and fall off.

“Oh! King of the hill, but on the log! You get up here too and uhh, we’ll try to knock each other off, let’s do, uhh… best 2 outta 3 wins the round? And we’ll do, like, whoever knocks the other off the most after 5 rounds wins everything. Or something?”

And, well.

That’s actually not a terrible idea. 

“What’s the consequence for losing?”

“Well, being a loser, of course. And the winner gets total bragging rights!”

“Beating you at king of the hill is nothing much to brag about,” Keith smirks, “there’s gotta be something else, too. Way more fun to play for something worth it.”

“Fine, fine, fine.” Lance pauses as he thinks, “uhhh, how about we - uhh - okay how about each round winner gets to ask the loser a question that they gotta answer honestly? Perfectly honestly. Nothing too personal, of course!” Lance hastily adds when he sees Keith’s scrunched up face. “What, like you can come up with anything better on the spot!”

And well, that’s true, because Keith’s got nothing.

“Fine, but _nothing_ personal and no dumb questions either. If you ask _anything_ remotely sexual about Shiro I will drown you right here, right now, and it _will_ look like an accident.” He threatens, though the words have no bite to them due to the smile he can’t fight off his face. 

“Ugh, that was once! _Once_ , Keithers! But fine by me, I’ll just ask Matt for that golden info instead.” Lance teases right back. 

The game is pretty fun, actually. It’s more difficult than Keith expected - because of the imbalance of the log due to their small weight differences - but also because the log is slippery, they’re both slippery, and despite being super athletic, both of them have real shitty balance. They spend more time throwing each other off the log while trying to climb back up on than they do trying to throw each other off while they’re both standing, but it doesn’t take long for Keith to be the first to reach 3 points and end the round. 

He lets out a dignified “hah!” as Lance loses his grip and footing at the same time and Keith shoves him into the water with more force than is probably necessary.

He offers Lance a hand and yanks him up, holding the log steady for once so Lance can climb onto the log and mirror Keith, so that they’re both sitting straddling the log. 

“Alright, alright, Mullet-boy. Ask away.” Lance says. 

Keith takes a moment to think. In all honesty, there’s a million things he wants to ask, wants the real answers too, so he takes a moment to sift through and pick out the best ones. Well, what he thinks are the best anyway. 

“Did you keep going to our spot after I left?” Keith’s not sure why he starts with that one, but he does, and grips the log as he waits for the response. 

Lance cocks his head to the side a little, thinking. “No,” he says, a little shyly, “I mean, I kept going back for the rest of that summer, but it just wasn’t the same you know? And then, well, money has never been plentiful for us so the following year when Mamma asked if we really wanted to camp there all summer again, my brothers and sisters didn’t mind so I didn’t really care all that much either to just stay home. Felt like there wasn’t anything left for me, you know?”

Keith nods, unsure of what to say. He expected honesty but not _that_ much honesty. Because, yeah, he knows exactly what Lance means and it sure took a lot for Keith to admit that to himself, let alone to another person. 

“Anyway,” Lance says, breaking the silence they’d fallen into, “wanna play again?”

They play again, and this time it’s Lance who gains the upper hand early on, gripping Keith’s shoulders and yanking him forward, into Lance’s chest so that the unexpected weight on one end of the log ends up sending them both crashing into the water.

When Keith surfaces, he’s met with Lance’s smug face already sitting back on the log. “I won that one,” He says, triumphantly.

“Barely, if at all.” Keith says, sending a splash of water into Lance’s lap. Lance kicks his feet in retaliation. 

Once Keith is (ungracefully) back on the log he nods at Lance, already regretting agreeing to the game when he sees the look on Lance’s face. 

“Ask away,” He says reluctantly. 

“Did ya miss me?” Lance asks playfully, still smirking. It makes Keith want to drop all sense of control and shove him off the log. Or kiss him. Both are super strong emotions that being around Lance seem to surface. 

“Really?? I thought I said no dumb questions. Of course I missed you, stupid!”

“Oi, that wasn’t dumb! And you said nothing personal, that wasn’t personal!” Lance defends, but Keith doesn’t miss the way Lance’s shoulders relax and the red tint to his ears is back again. Keith also notices the goofy grin that Lance is desperately trying to fend off his cheeks. 

“That was really, really, dumb.” Keith says, and gives up control. 

Lance’s back hits the water with an indignant squawk, and before they know it, Lance is up on the log again, feisty as ever, and the next round has started. 

Keith lets Lance win the next round, simple because he wants to know what Lance would ask without the restriction of ‘nothing personal’.

“A real one this time, please.” He says, shaking the water out of his hair like a dog. 

“Uhh, okay, okay… Why’d you come to the Garrison and not one of the other nearby uni’s? I remember you said it was easier to follow Shiro here, but he’s not getting you free - or even discounted - tuition, right? And you guys don’t live together, so wouldn’t it be just as easy to just, I don’t know, go to a different school?”

Keith’s a little shocked at how perceptive Lance is, at how much he actually pays attention. 

“Following Shiro was only one part of the decision, and I already told you that the Garrison has the best astrophysics program around and if there’s anything I want to do with my future, it’s probably gonna be related to that. Also, Shiro basically told me that I’ve gotta get my undergraduate degree and then that’s it, I can do whatever I like after. Which I’m not yet sure what that is, but at least astrophysics is cool and interesting and I’m alright at it.”

He’s never told the whole truth to the story before but there’s something about Lance’s earlier honesty that makes Keith want to spill the truth for once. Because if there’s anyone who should hear the full version, it’s Lance. 

Keith taps his fingers against his thigh once, twice, three times, and then he’s letting the words spill out into the air between them.

“I… I also thought that since you said you wanted to be an astronaut, this would be the best chance of me ever finding you. I figured you would stay local to BC and when I looked up each Uni, this one just screamed your name. Cheesy, I know,” Keith hopes he isn’t blushing as visibly as he feels he is, “but really, I kinda followed an instinct that said you’d go to school here and hoped it was right, I.. I guess I couldn’t let you go? I don’t know, but I’m glad I did.”

“Gross.”

“Wa- Hey!”

Lance doubles over, laughing, and Keith knows that his own face is as red as a tomato. He feels hot and dumb and is regretting everything until Lance straightens back up, all traces of being an asshole have vanished from his body.

“That’s actually really sweet,” Lance says, reaching across the space between them to ruffle Keith’s hair. 

The mood is tight now. Traces of some unfamiliar emotion in the air. And instead of pushing through and breathing it in, Keith does what he does best: challenge and push back. 

Lance pulls his hand out of Keith’s hair, a strange look on his face, and Keith grabs his hand before it completely leaves Keith’s personal space. With one hand wrapped around Lance’s wrist, he tugs just enough to upset Lance’s balance then shoves Lance’s arm back. The successive motions send Lance flying backwards but Keith moves his hands to Lance’s thighs quickly to keep him on the log.   
When Lance regains his balance, Keith feels Lance’s thigh muscles shift and pull underneath his hands and sees Lance’s abs ripple and bunch as they work to pull Lance back into an upright position. 

Suddenly, Keith becomes aware of just how close they are, how much skin he can see and how much skin he can feel underneath his hands. 

Suddenly, Keith feels a flush rising up the back of his neck and he feels way too hot. 

His hands leave Lance’s thighs like the very touch burns his palms, hovering awkwardly in the air for a moment as he stares at Lance and Lance stares right back. 

This close, Keith can see the freckles that after all the years still dust across Lance’s nose. This close, he can see how thick and pretty Lance’s eyelashes are when he blinks long and slow.

This close, it’s too much. 

Lance hits the water with a small shout, clearly not expecting the sudden shove that Keith delivers to his shoulders. When he surfaces, he’s sputtering and flailing his arms and whatever tenseness was in the air is suddenly dissipated as Keith bursts out laughing and kicks his feet to splash water into Lance’s open mouth. 

They end up playing another round, until Keith takes a pretty hard fall into the water and comes back up sputtering and coughing, and Lance stops laughing long enough to check and make sure Keith’s actually alright. They decide to stop playing after that and Keith’s granted a win, even though he was winning anyway. 

“Ask another one, then, since we both know I woulda won that round had you not proceed to almost drown on me.”

“No way, I was winning that! I had two points and was about to get a third when you cheated!”

“Wha- I did not cheat!”

“You did, but whatever. I’ll take the win.”

“Then go ahead and ask a question!”

“I will-”

“‘Kay, do it already!”

“- later. Can I cash it in and save it for later?”

“Uh...” Lance’s face twists as he seriously thinks the request through, “I don’t see why you would want to, but okay I guess.”

“Hm.” 

_Why’d you kiss me all those years ago? Why’d you just walk after? Why’d you wait till the very last day to do it? Why did you let me leave with no form of contact? Are the questions that Keith really wants to ask but is too scared to hear the answers of._

He just lays back on the log and closes his eyes.

The hours that pass are reminiscent of the old days in the lake at the bottom of their mountain, but this time, there’s a distinct difference in the atmosphere that surrounds them. Something heavier, something more mature, something that Keith still can’t name. 

On their backs spinning gently on the warm log in their own little piece of paradise, the sun beating down on them from a pale blue sky, Keith feels them drifting closer and closer, and for the second time in his life, Keith thinks he’s falling.

~

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent_   
_Huddled far from the highway aisle_   
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice_   
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles_

~

It’s hours later and they’ve been flirting and fighting, swimming and sun-tanning, and now they’re back to floating on their backs, cloud watching, and Keith finally feels ready to cash in his question. 

“Hey, Lance?” 

“Keithers?”

“Can I ask my question now?”

“Ohoh, has that peanut sized brain of yours finally come up with something good?” Lance teases. 

“Can you not be a dick for a solid minute?” 

“Probably not.”

“Well, no shit, even a baby born yesterday could answer that.”

“Did you get that insult from Pidge?” Lance laughs, “I knew introducing you two was a shitty idea!”

Keith totally got that insult from Pidge.

“I didn’t get any insults from Pidge, that was my own genius.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s true.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious!”

“Okay! Alright, alright, I’ll behave for exactly one minute. Ask your question.”

Keith quirks an eyebrow at Lance because he’s pretty sure they have totally different definitions of the word ‘behave’, but he really can’t put it off any longer so he just steals himself and takes a deep breath. 

“Are you- we -”

“Spit it out, man. Can’t be any worse than when I asked what Shiro’s like in bed.”

That rips a laugh out of Keith before he can stop it. “No, god no, that was the worst. Please, never bring that up again.”

Lance sports a lopsided grin which threatens to launch him into certified Dick Mode, but he holds it off long enough for Keith to pull it together.

“Do you flirt with me?”

The grin is wiped right off Lance’s face and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, eyes going wide.

“I - I mean, I know you flirt with like, just about anybody, but… when you joke around and shit like that… are you… is that flirting?”

“Yeah.” Lance says quietly, “I guess I was - well, am.” 

“You do that often.”

“Guess I do. Why? Does it bother you? If it does, I can stop.” Lance says, expression quickly morphing from surprise to worry, and no, Keith doesn’t want that at all. 

“No, no, I was just wondering. Why do you do it? Flirt with me, I mean. It… feels different than when you do it with Allura. Or Shiro, even.”

“Well, it’s always been to annoy you, to get a reaction outta you, and besides, Shiro and ‘llura shot me down so fast, it’s more for fun than anything at this point.”

“What about now?”

“What d’you mean? Why do I keep flirting with you now?”

Keith nods. 

“Well… I…” Lance sheepishly rubs an arm at the back of his neck, sending ripples across the otherwise still pool. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith notices that the tips of his ears are bright red again. He’ll have to remind Lance to put more sunscreen on them later. 

“I still do it to annoy you, to get a reaction.” Lance says, not looking in Keith’s direction. 

Keith waits.

“Cuz, uhhh… You’re cute-” 

Keith exhales and all the air he was unknowingly holding in rushes out in one big swoosh into the miles of space between them. 

“-when you’re annoyed. And when I’m flirting with you, which is almost always, you’re annoyed and cute, which also happens to be almost always…”

“‘M not cute.” Keith says, bringing his legs down under him to stand up and stare at Lance.

“You’re cute, sometimes. Most of the time.”

There’s a pause where nothing seems to move.

“All of the time.”

At once, Keith feels like he’s walked face first into a brick wall. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing all the way down to the back of his knees. 

“I’m not cute.” He tries again.

“Oh, but you are, Keithers. Even with that god awful Mullet of yours.”

“It’s-”

But then Lance is moving, sinking down and ducking under the water, gone from sight. 

The water is cool but Keith finds himself getting warmer and warmer as he senses Lance swimming closer and closer, until he pops up inches from Keith’s face, a predatory look across all his features, and Keith’s blood runs hot. 

“Keithers.” Lance says, standing up and leveling himself on the same flat rock that Keith’s standing on. The action leaves not even an inch between them, the movement sending ripples of water lapping at Keith’s belly button; cool water against skin that feels on fire. 

For once, Keith doesn’t question the ‘butterflies in your stomach’ saying that most people use to describe falling in love. He feels like he might throw up or pass out or wake up. 

“Lance.”

Keith reaches out and tucks the stray strand of wet hair behind Lance’s ear, just barely catching the way Lance’s breath hitches at the action. His hair is soft, just as soft as he remembers. 

Somewhere in the forest around them a hawk calls out, but the boys are locked in their own world, the outside world forgotten a million miles away. 

“Hey,” Lance says, reaching out to grab Keith’s arm, stopping it from moving back out of Lance’s space. “Do yo-… Can I kiss you?” 

It’s hesitant and so unsure and so unlike Lance that Keith feels he must break the tension that's building in the one inch gap between them. 

“Oh, you’re actually gonna ask this time?” Is the reply that’s quick on Keith’s tongue. 

He watches in content as Lance’s face turns bright red, his eyes shift off of Keith’s, and he sputters to come up with an answer.

“I - Uh- About that, I - Sorr-”

The sun is messing with Lance’s features again and Keith’s gaze gets stuck on those lips, the embarrassed soft smile that’s spread across them. And Keith suddenly wants nothing more than to kiss those lips. To lean in and capture them once and for all. 

So he does. 

Doesn’t let him finish struggling to come up with a coherent apology and just leans forward to close the miles and miles of space between them and presses their lips together. 

It’s a little awkward at first, Keith’s failing to fight off a smile and Lance’s just standing there, but once Lance snaps out of it and reaches to grab Keith’s chin and adjust the angle, the smile slowly slides off Keith’s face.

He swallows the giddy high in his chest and moves along with Lance, reaching out to slide his hands up Lance’s slick chest, around the back of his neck, and _finally_ into the soft, damp hairs at the nape of Lance’s neck. 

They pull apart to readjust for a single second and then Lance is tugging Keith closer and leaning in again to slot their lips together. 

It’s hot, _really_ hot, and in pure hindsight, Keith _really should have seen this coming._

“Hey…” Lance begins when they pull apart to catch their breaths, much too soon if Keith has anything to say about it, “this has got to be the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Keith slowly opens his eyes, not remembering ever closing them, to Lance’s beautiful face so very close to his own, and - oh shit yeah, it’s July 28th - it’s his birthday today isn’t it? How’d Keith even forget that? 

He tosses reason out the window and just hums in agreement, pulling Lance back in. He can worry about giving Lance a proper present later, after all. 

Kissing Lance while standing waist deep in a peaceful pool at the bottom of a tucked away waterfall has got to be the best birthday present ever, Lance repeatedly tells him later in the afternoon, when they’re lying side by side on the picnic blanket Lance brought, lips and hands exploring skin. 

“Yeah?” Keith asks, not too sure if it’s enough.

“Ohhh heck ya. I’ve been thinking of doing this for a long time actually, couldn’t get you outta my head from the day I saw you again. It was like… like every single feeling I felt years and years ago just spiked right back up in full force when you sat down in front of me, like, have I ever told you how hot you are now? How hot you look with that stupidly fucking attractive mullet these days? It’s unfair man, super unfair.” 

Lance is cute, too cute, Keith decides, so he reaches across and flicks Lance on the nose, “Can I take you out to dinner at least?” He asks, since he’s pretty sure he can do that now. Ask Lance out whenever, take Lance places he deserves to be taken to. “And I still can’t believe you kissed me the day before I left. You know how long it took me to get over that?”

“Long time?”

“I don’t think I am, still think about it all the time actually.”

But why bother thinking about it when he’s got the real, much better thing right in front of him?

~

There’s a waterfall in place of a mountain top, a pretty view of a stream tucked away in a forest in place of the vast BC mountain range, a flat rock with clothes and bags tossed across it in place of a worn out bench, but the mess of brown hair, long tan limbs, deep blue eyes laying at Keith’s side is the same as ever, and that’s all that really matters anyway. 

This time, they meet in the middle and the afternoon fades into slow kisses and shared stories of the years spent apart, dreams of years to spend together. There’s still a million questions burning on Keith’s tongue, a million things he wants to learn how to say but they’ve got days and days ahead of them and miles and miles of history to uncover and re-write. 

It’s taken them 8 long years but they’ve finally found each other again, finally able to pick right back up where they once left off. 

This time though, it’s going to take more than a few thousand miles to separate them and they’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out. 

~


	11. Age 21 - Ever After (Take it slow) -- The Epilogue Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take it slow, because they've got all the time in the world to speed things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is pure smut so if that's not your thing, just read until the first break (the first ~)! And if it is your thing, well, have fun ;)

The Epilogue Part One ~

Keith is 21 and smirking to himself as he steps over boxes on his way to open the door to Lance, who undoubtedly forgot his keys for the second time since they moved in earlier this week. 

“Yoo hoo! Delivery!” Lance says the second Keith has the door open wide enough. He steps past Keith into their apartment with two stacked pizza boxes balancing on one arm, the other pulling Keith closer for a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“Forgot your keys again?” Keith asks, side stepping to let Lance move past him into the small hallway filled with boxes yet to be unpacked. 

“Ppfftt, no. What makes you think that?” Keith snorts. “My hands were just full of pizza, that's all.”

Right, sure.

“Riiiiiiight,” Keith drawls, smirking again, “sure. Anyway, thanks for the pizza.” Pizza was pretty much the only option since all their kitchen appliances are packed away in various boxes, their locations currently unknown. 

“No problemo. Picked out a movie yet? I swear to god, I am not watching another one of your stupid cryptic documentaries.” Lance says, shoving boxes aside to create a clear space of kitchen counter to place the pizza boxes onto. 

“There's nothing wrong with my cryptic docu's, you just can't appreciate good art.” 

“Go- Art?!?!” By now, they're both laughing, pizza boxes forgotten on the kitchen counter as they walk, shoulders touching, into the family room and collapse onto the couch. “Those are not art! How can you even?! Want to know what good art is?” Lance says, continuing on as though the very idea of those cryptic docu's has personally wronged him. 

“No. No! We sure as hell aren't watching The Great Gatsby or Inception again just because of your obsession with Leonardo DiCaprio!” Keith laughs, shoving Lance’s shoulders enough to toss him onto his back, to which Lance just pulls Keith down right on top of him. 

“How dare! Leo is the best-”

“No! Okay, okay, I know. I know! You have a raging hard on for that guy, trust me, I _know_!” and Keith’s really, honestly, heard way too much of Lance’s love for Leo DiCaprio that he’s almost convinced Lance loves the actor more than Lance loves Keith himself. “It’s almost like you love Leo more than you love me!”

Lance’s eye darken a little as he sits up a fraction, “Yeah, no, Keither’s, I don’t think that’s possible.”

And that’s all it takes for the air around them to finally change, to finally release all the tension that’s been building between them since Keith opened the door to Lance not too long ago. 

Building in the way they can’t seem to take their hands off each other, in the way Keith purposely lets his shirt ride up when Lance slides his hands across his shoulders before grabbing hold of them and tossing Keith lightly off the couch. In the way Keith moves his hips and gives Lance The Look™ as he takes his time standing back up. 

In the way it builds and builds and then snaps and releases abruptly when Lance sits upright on the couch and reaches his arms out, pure desire and want written into all his features, eyes dark and waiting, wanting. 

“Baby, come ‘ere,” Lance says and Keith will, but he’s gonna take his sweet ass time because they can do this now. They’ve got all evening tonight and many, many, evenings like this to come, and Keith’s gonna enjoy every last drop he can. 

~

“Baby, come ‘ere,” Lance slurs, hands reaching out in desperation. He’s been wanting, craving, needing skin on skin contact since Keith opened the door for him what seems like forever ago, wearing those dark jeans that he's gotta know Lance loves the very sight of. 

“Why? You want some of this?” Keith asks, voice husky and filled with obvious want. He moves his hips deliciously as he slowly stands up, and he’s gotta know, gotta understand, gotta be aware of the effect those damn hips have on Lance. Keith bites his lip and moves closer, sliding a seductive hand up his chest, bunching his shirt up and giving Lance a preview of toned abs, a defined chest, hard, perky nipples just begging to be tweaked. Lance can feel the heat of Keith’s body getting closer to his, and his one track mind wants more, more, more, and faster, so much faster. 

“God, yes.” Lance moans as Keith moves his hands down his body. He moves closer, sliding in to drop down and straddle Lance’s lap. And then it's almost too much at once as Lance gets a lap full of a toned body, gets those black leggings pulled tight over thick thighs sitting, pressing, weighing down into his own thighs. Lance feels a coil of heat start to build low in his stomach as Keith settles into his lap, pressing in close, so close, so that Lance’s back is flush up against the back of the couch. And damn, the urge to grab a handful of that beautiful ass is strong, so strong that Lance’s gotta restrain himself by grabbing Keith’s hips and pressing his fingers into the strip of skin just above the waistband of Keith’s dark jeans, just below the bottom of Keith’s shirt. 

Lance’s hands are hot but Keith’s skin is hotter. 

He holds tighter as Keith starts moving deliciously in his lap, as Keith adjusts his hips in just the right way, whispers his name before sliding his hands into Lance’s hair and connecting their lips together with a sense of urgency that makes Lance whimper. 

Keith’s lips are so warm, so soft, and they move so expertly against Lance’s own with just the right amount of pressure. It makes Lance weak enough to be glad that he’s currently sitting down, because otherwise he’d 100% be on the ground right now. 

Lance digs his fingernails into the soft skin just a little harder as Keith’s hot tongue probes against his lips and when Lance pliantly opens up for it, slides into Lance’s wet mouth. The whole motion sends shivers all the way up Lance’s spine. Then, Keith bites down on Lance’s lip and all bets are off -- what starts out as something innocent quickly turns desperate and Lance suddenly has trouble holding in a low, soft whine that starts at the base of his throat and slips out before he can stop it. He sounds _needy_. Which, well, he _is_ , have you seen Keith?. 

He needs to hold onto something, needs something to ground himself with so he doesn’t get carried away, doesn’t end this way before it needs to end. 

And Keith apparently needs the same thing, if the fingers tugging hard in Lance’s soft strands at the nape of his neck are anything to go by. 

“God.” Keith moans when they break apart to breathe. “God, been wanting to hear you like this for so long. So _fucking hot_. Can I… I really wanna suck you off right now” He breathes against Lance’s lips, voice deep and raspy, “I… need to feel you babe...”

Lance blushes automatically but yes, _god yes_ , he needs it so bad. 

“Yea... uh- yeah, you can.”

“I just… want you... Lance.” Keith starts a slow roll of his hips, pressing down into Lance’s lap and moaning hard when Lance loses self control and jerks his hips up to meet Keith’s in a delicious serge of contact. Lance’s getting too hard too fast, which is almost embarrassing considering they’re just making out and it _really_ shouldn’t affect him this much, but it does, and Lance just might die right here right now. 

And by the feel of it, Keith’s not far off at all, just are hard and just as needy. Keith’s working up a steady rhythm on top of him, breath all shallow, and Lance’s not sure how long he can take this, not sure how long he’ll last before he’s coming in his pants like he’s 12 years old again. 

Their hips meet perfectly yet again and Lance moans as Keith tips his head back, offering up his long pale neck for Lance to attach his lips to. Which he does, sucking hard on pale skin to leave his first colorful mark of many for the night. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, Keith. Want you so bad”

“You.. you gonna do anything about it, then?” Keith’s panting hard, and Lance knows they’re gonna have to slow down a little if they want this to last. 

Keith’s hands are pushing up Lance’s chest, fingers splayed out across his ribs. 

Lance doesn’t hold back either, starts slides his hands slowly up Keith’s chest, taking the time to feel the way Keith’s abs flex and shift below them. When he gets to Keith’s nipples, he flicks them once and moves on, bunching Keith’s shirt up at his collarbones and trialing one finger all the way back down, over smooth, hot skin, hovering just above the band of Keith’s leggings. He watches Keith close his eyes as he slips a finger below the band, fingering the edge of Keith’s underwear. 

“Shirts. Off.” He says, sliding his hand back and letting go of Keith altogether to grab the hem of his own shirt. Keith’s all too quick to agree, opening his eyes and holding Lance’s gaze as he seductively pushes his shirt up his chest, quickly throwing it over his head and running a hand through the hair he ruffled up in the process. 

He looks so damn attractive and Lance feels himself way too close to the edge already. 

“Your turn.” Keith says, unconsciously picking back up the slow roll of his hips. His eyelids are already heavy, his eyes dark and filled with want. 

The second Lance has his shirt up and over his head, Keith’s lips are on his collarbones causing Lance to take a sharp inhale, instinctively grabbing at Keith’s hips. 

“Keith,” He whines as Keith moves his way to nuzzle into Lance’s neck. “I… need you to...”

Keith grabs Lance’s shoulders and slides back till he’s on his feet and standing above Lance, looking down with heavy eyes. “Can I?” He asks as he places his hands on Lance’s knees, gently prying them apart. 

Can he- 

You fucking bet he can.

“Yes, yes. _God yes, Keithers_.” 

Keith’s hand is on the buckle of Lance’s belt in seconds, the other hand pushing Lance’s back into the couch, raising his hips up just enough to slide Lance’s jeans and boxers down so that the tip of Lance’s dick peeks out. There’s a dribble of pre-come already spilling from the head and Lance jerks as Keith wastes no time swiping a thumb across it. Lance pretty much dies as Keith crouches down and brings his thumb into his mouth, sucking obscenely while looking up into Lance’s eyes. _Fuck_ , Keith’s way too fucking attractive for his own good. 

“Fuck, Lance. You taste so good already, can’t wait to taste all of you soon.” Keith groans, leaning in close to Lance’s crotch. The motion sends a warm puff of air against Lance’s lower abdomen, making his dick twitch. 

It’s gonna be sooner than later if Keith keeps that seductive voice up, that’s for sure. 

Keith pulls the rest of Lance’s dick out and holds it hot and heavy in one hand and Lance barely suppresses a full body shiver when Keith runs his tongue on a slow, experimental lick from the head all the way to the base, ghosting his mouth over the shaft on the way back up. And then with no warning, Keith removes his hand, pulls back, and takes him all the way in. 

Lance cries out in pleasure, his hands flying into Keith’s hair and gripping hard. “ _Fuck!_ …Kei-”

Lance isn’t going to last long, he knows it the second he feels Keith’s mouth move down his length as he takes him like the fucking champ he is. Keith’s lack of a gag reflex is working wonders on Lance right now and his heart repeatedly slams against his rib-cage with every bob of Keith’s head. 

Lance isn’t going to last long, but he doesn’t want it to end. His hips are already shaking and he shivers violently when he looks down at Keith who is peeking up at him from black, hooded lashes, cheeks hollowed and flushed as he works Lance’s cock between those delicious pink lips.

Keith makes an obscene slurping sound as he pops off for a slip second, giving another long lick from tip to base. 

“ F-fuck—” 

Keith really knows how to use his mouth, his tongue, his hands, his eyes. 

Lance is so fucking lucky. 

Keith hums around his dick and the vibration nearly pushes Lance over the edge. He tugs on Keith’s hair, urging him forward and trying to warn him that he’s close, so close, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t think he can form a coherent sentence right now, it’s just a constant stream of _fuck fuck fuck_ and repressed moans and whimpers. 

He’s _so fucking close_. 

Keith picks up his rhythm, sensing Lance’s closeness, every movement getting deeper, tighter, faster, wetter and Lance whimpers pathetically. 

“S-shit...not gon-…” He tries to inhale an unsteady breath.  
Shit, just a few more, _holy shi— he’s gonna_ \- 

He’s so close, so close, and he’s just gotta…

“Keith-- hoo… hyuuughh… I’m gonna- gonna come...” He says it with enough time for Keith to draw back if he wants to, but Keith just keeps going, bobbing his head, swirling his tongue, milking Lance for all its worth as Lance finally lets go, his hips pitching forward, dick twitching. 

When he comes, it is all-encompassing: he exhales shakily and his vision blurs and heat bursts all throughout his body. His hips, his thighs shivering uncontrollably from the overwhelming sensation of his come shooting out, hitting the back of Keith’s throat in warm spurts. 

Keith’s mouth loosens around him for a moment, swallowing down Lance’s come with heavy eyelids. He pulls back just enough to ghost a kiss over Lance’s shaft, drawing a slow, hot tongue up the length of Lance’s cock, obscenely slurping up the last dribbles of come that his sloppy mouth missed. 

Lance is locked into Keith’s unbroken eye contact as Keith swallows one last time, bringing a hand up to swipe across his mouth. 

And then, he licks his hand too. 

Fuck.

Holy shit.

Lance moves to speak but there’s nothing to say and he’s got no energy for that anyway. For a while it’s just silence as Keith just stares, chest heaving as he breathes and breathes, and Lance tries to deal with the endorphins that all come rushing back when the corner of Keith’s mouth tugs upward into a shit eating grin, adding to the blush that’s dusting his cheeks. 

Keith just sucked his dick. 

And he was damn good at it too. 

_Holy shit_.

“You taste good, Lance.” Keith finally says, voice still deep and husky. “Been wanting to do that for so long. Been wanting to know what you sound like, what you look like.”

“Fuck _Keith_. Think that was the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten in my _life_.” Lance says, voice shaky and still a little breathless.

“Yeah? Think I can make you come again? Haven’t been fucked in forever, really wanna ride you now....”

And just when he thought his heartbeat was finally calming down for the first time since Keith opened the door for him what seems like ages ago, those simple words have his pulse racing and his half-hard cock twitching in anticipation. 

“You up for it?”

Is he-

Hell ya he’s up for it

Keith must see the answer in Lance’s eyes because he’s moving, grabbing Lance under the arms and hoisting him up off the couch and tossing him over his shoulder, hands coming up to grip his ass as Keith fireman carries him across the flat and into the bedroom.

Lance hits the bed with a little thump and a bounce that’s quickly stilled as Keith crawls over him, hot thighs on either side of Lance’s hips. 

“Thank god we set the bed up first, babe.” Is the last coherent thing Lance remembers saying before his mind goes blank and he lets himself submit to Keith.

They take it slow, not because they haven’t done this before (because they have), but because this is the first of many times they’ll get to do it like this. On their own bed, in their own apartment, with nothing but the hours and hours of moonlight streaming in through the open window. 

They take it slow, because they’ve got all the time in the world to speed things up. 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue Part Two (the final chapter) should be up within the next two weeks :)


	12. Age 21 - Ever After (Half a year later) The Epilogue Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four of them take a trip up to Keith's old cabin during their summer break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annd wow, this took longer than expected but alas, here it is.... the final chapter! 
> 
> It's at least 30% longer than anticipated but I wanted to give these boys the ending they rightfully deserved haha 
> 
> enjoy!

~

A warm July afternoon finds Lance walking up to a sole Keithers sitting on a park bench a few blocks off campus. It’s the beginning of the summer between their second and third year of uni and one boy’s 21 years old and the other isn’t far behind. They started their summer break barely a week ago but neither of them have any plans to leave the Garrison grounds until later on: Lance’s headed back home sometime in August and Keithers’ not going back to the Shirogane’s until the last 2 weeks of summer. 

It feels like summer already though, with the 25 degree weather and the beautiful clear skies a welcome break from the typical rainy days of July. Lance isn’t sure if his good mood is a result of the good weather, the fact that he’s finally done and through his second year of uni - his grades got posted a few days ago (which ended up being better than he was expecting) - or if it’s because of the set of keys he’s currently tossing from hand to hand. Actually, it’s probably the sexy mess of black hair (that is 100% _his_ , by the way, and has been for almost a year now) he’s currently walking towards. Or, better yet, a combination of all of the above. It’s the later, probably. 

Keith’s too focused on the book he’s reading - _for fun_ \- to notice Lance walking down the path in front of him. And instead of greeting him normally, Lance takes the opportunity to get as close as possible, undetected, and maybe, _finally_ , achieve his goal of scaring Keith. 

Lance detours off the path so that he can approach the bench from behind, holding the keys tight in his hand so they don’t make noise and give him away. When he’s close enough, he leans down and places his lips right next to Keith’s ear.

“Heya!” he says, probably way louder than necessary, but he _is_ trying to ruffle the guy after all. 

It’s no surprise, really, when Keith does nothing but tense his shoulders a little and close his book rather fast to turn around and swat at Lance’s face - Since they moved in together at the beginning of the year, Lance’s been desperately trying to catch Keith completely off guard but he swears that kid’s got eyes everywhere and internal alarms when someone starts acting fishy. He just always _knows_. Besides being weird as hell, It’s oddly charming. 

Keithers is _his_ , after all. 

“Hey, you,” Keith says, turning around to place a casual arm on the back of the bench and offer a smile that makes Lance’s knees a little weak. It takes every ounce of his strength to restrain from swooping down and capturing Keith’s lips in a kiss, almost more strength than Lance currently has. He would totally do it but they’re in public, and Lance is well aware of Keith’s PDA limits. 

He settles for a quick ruffle of Keith’s hair and then, hoping the bench, moves to stand in front of Keith, taking him all the way in with a quick glance (who is he kidding, you’ve gotta be blind to miss the way his gaze lingers) from head to toe and back up again. A Full Body Scan™ is what it is and has been for the past few weeks. But can you really blame him? Keith is God Tier levels of hot and Lance is a nothing but a weak man. 

Keith’s wearing a typical Keithers outfit - Black jeans, black combat boots, and a simple black tee that Lance is pretty sure he wore yesterday. Yes, he’s wearing all black in this 20 degree weather. Yes, it is an amazing look on him. No, Lance is _not_ swooning. 

Lance tosses the keys from his left hand back to his right and sure enough, almost on cue, “Whatcha got there?” Keith asks. 

Lance tosses the key ring right at Keith but of course Ninja Keith catches them before they hit him square in the face. He slides onto the bench, turning sideways and tucking his leg up under him, mimicking Keith’s position so that they’re as face to face as two people can get sitting on a bench. A jean covered knee ends up touching a bare tanned one.

“Here,” Lance says, taking the key ring back and holding it up. “This one, is my key to my honda - which, by the way, is parked illegally in the parking lot of the library because they’re charging 5 bucks an hour which is wrong on so many levels, it’s _summer break_ for crying out loud, barely anyone is on campus these days, so we should probably hurry up before it gets towed - but this one, Keithers,” He slides a faded, old key to the top and holds it away from the others on the ring, “this one, is a very early birthday present from me to you, or a super super late birthday present also from me to you .”

Keith quirks an eyebrow. 

“You’ll never guess what it’s for.”

“Uhh, you’re probably right so just tell me.”

“Haah! You’ve gotta at least guess!” 

“It could be to literally anything! You uhhh, you bought a house?”

“Yes, Keith, I’m 20 years old, heading into 3rd year and I just bought a house. No, dumb-ass! We’re still sharing that shitty apartment for as long as we can. Guess again.”

“I don’t know, Lance!” He says, throwing his arms up and scowling. “Just tell me already.”

Lance smirks. One more for Lance. “Well, you weren’t _that_ far off actually, but _I_ didn’t buy anything - a little birdie gave it to me, actually - and it’s technically not a key to a house, but the key to a cottage. Your old cottage actually, up in Blue River. I was thinking you, me, Pidge, and Hunk could spend a few days up there as a kinda celebration for finishing yet another year, ya know? Could be fun~”

Beside him, Keith’s eyes are wide and he appears to be held frozen to the spot. Lance can’t help but laugh at his reaction. 

“Whaddya say?”

“Tha- what- how?!” Keith sputters. “How the heck did you get a key to my old cottage? And how- are people living there? How do you know any of this? How do you even _know_ where the cottage is? Is this 100% legal?!”

Lance expected questions but not this many and not all at once. 100% legal? Who does Keith think he is?

“Keithers!” he says, still laughing. “Don’t worry about the details, man, all you gotta know is that the cottage is empty - has been since you left, by the way, I made sure of that - and I have a key to it - a legitimate, totally legal key for that matter - and a few vacation days from work that I gotta use up before mid august. So whaddya say? Wanna go?”

“Do I wanna- oh my god, Lance are you stupid?! Hell ya I wanna go!”

“Okay, good because I already asked Hunk and Pidge and they’re pumped, but they’re both doing lab shit or whatever for the rest of this week and the next, so wanna go for the last week of July? I’m pretty sure you can get that many days off work; Allura is the best boss I’ve ever seen, man, wish my boss was even half as cool. But instead I’m stuck doing lab shit for _Coran_. Don’t understand half the shit that guy says.”

And Lance is rambling a little, he knows he is, but he was honestly worried that Keith would say no, say that he never wants to go back there again. Getting the key was a journey and getting them to cottage in one piece in Lance’s 2004 sweat-bucket of a Honda civic will be another hike and a half in and of itself, but Lance is excited. And yeah, they’ll be squatting there in a years empty cabin with no furniture and probably no electricity, but he wants to make this _right_ , wants Keith and Hunk and Pidge to love it. If he’s being honest, he wants it to be the type of awesome vacation spot that he sees friends take in slice of life anime, in tons of his favorite movies and YA books. 

“Yeah, yeah I can ask for time off. Allura’ll probably let me have it if I make up extra hours somewhere else.”

~

Keith works hard for Allura over the next week. He spends almost all of his hours at the cafe, taking orders, making drinks, cleaning the tables when he has to. It’s gruesome, sure, but even Keith can see how much Lance wants this. How Lance’s eyes sparkle and he perks up when Keith asks questions about it, how eager he is to share his travel itinerary with Keith and see what he thinks. It’s cute and Keith’s long established that he’d do just about anything for Lance anyway. 

Which is how he finds himself _almost_ regretting saying yes to this trip when Dancing Queen starts blasting through the shitty speakers of Lance’s shitty car for the fourth time in the last hour. And of course, Lance’s shitty voice joins the shitty song when the first line blares, crinkles, and statics it’s way through the speakers. God, they’re not even 2 hours into the 4 and a half hour drive and Keith already wants to kill him. It’s no help that Hunk’s passed out in the back seat and that Pidge was smart enough to bring noise-cancelling headphones. He sees her knowing smirk through the side mirror and watches in absolute mortification as she gives him finger guns and an accompanying wink. 

Keith just wants to die. 

Like, seriously. 

Well, maybe it isn’t too bad; At least he’s driving above the speed limit, at least the car can _go_ above the speed limit, at least 2 hours have already past, at least-

“You’re a dancing queen! Young and sweet! Only twent-eeeeeeeee”

“Lance!” He’s gotta shout to be heard above the music.

“Hmm? What’s up, babe?” Lance shouts back, not even bothering to lower the volume.

“You’re not even singing the words properly and I know, because this is the millionth time I’ve had to listen to this damn song! And knock it off with the babe.”

“Babe, I can’t hear you, you gotta speak up.”

Never mind, Keith _will_ kill him before they get there. 

And he knows that turning the volume down will do nothing because Lance will just keep on singing so he does the next best thing. Grabs the phone from between Lance’s legs and pulls the aux cord out. 

His ears ring in the deafening silence, ABBA echoing in his brain where he knows it will stay for the next few weeks at least.

“Whadd’ya do that for! I was singing!” Lance asks, incredulously. 

“No more Dancing Queen.”

“What?! Keith. Babe. My man. That’s ABBA, you can’t just turn off ABBA. And Dancing Queen is an absolute masterpiece! The perfect road trip song!”

“Okay, yeah, it was a good song the first time you played it! And no, the perfect road trip song would be absolute silence.”

“The Sound Of Silence is absolutely not the perfect road trip song are you fuckin musically deaf?”

“I said, absolute silence, as in, no song. No noise. Maybe _you’re_ the deaf one.”

“Oi! I thought the one rule of this trip was no flirting.” Pidge says, leaning forward now with her headphones around her neck. “And Lance I will personally throw either you or myself out of this moving car if you play that damn song one more time.”

Keith hides a grin as Lance slouches in his seat and pouts. 

“Man, I just want to be out here having a good time and you party poopers are raining on my parade.”

“You can’t mix two sayings together like that.” Pidge says, reaching to grab the aux cord from Keith’s hand. 

“Why not?”

“Social catastrophe.”

“You’re a social catastrophe.”

“ _Keith’s_ the social catastrophe if there ever was one, but also so is your music taste.”

“Pidge, how dare you come in my car and diss ABBA like that.”

Pidge and Keith share knowing looks in the side mirror. 

“Actually according to the ownership of the-” 

“Pidge. No.”

“Did someone say food?”

“Yes, thank you, Hunk! We actually did indeed say food and yes that is indeed a brilliant idea. Food break, coming up!” 

This time, Keith finds himself rolling his eyes with a smile across his face.

~ 

 

It’s late afternoon when they pull into the long winding driveway of Keith’s old cabin. The tires crunch on the old gravel as Lance steers the car with his knees; he’s got both his hands stretching out the window. In the passenger seat, Keith’s got his seat-belt off already and is leaning as far out the window as he can get, listening to the old familiar sounds, inhaling the old familiar scents of his childhood. Even Pidge, the least in touch with nature out of all of them, has her headphones around her neck and a hand out the window. 

As they pull up to the cabin, Keith’s hit with a sudden feeling of sentiment; it’s as if through the 10 years nothing has changed at all, it’s as if he were to close his eyes he’d open them to see his mother sitting on the front swing, his dad working on the car in the garage, him in his favorite red sweater swinging a stick like a sword in the front lawn. 

It’s….

“So this is it, huh?” Lance asks, voice quiet. 

“It’s a nice place, looks like it’s been kept up over the years. You sure you got the right key to it, Lance?” Pidge asks.

“Yeah, ‘course. And if they’ve changed the locks then we’ll break in through the window, no big deal!”

“Who’d of changed the locks? Thought you said the place was empty?” Keith asks, brow furrowing as he takes in the place once more. The cut grass, the weedless gardens, the roof that looks like it’s been repainted a fresher shade of green.

“Ah don’t you worry that teeny tiny little brain of yours, Keithy!”

“You sure this is a good idea, Lance?” Hunk asks, ever the one to bring reasonable worry to the group. And not for the first time, Keith finds himself agreeing. He really doesn’t want any break-in and entering charges or anything like that. 

“Hunk my man, come on! You know me better than that, I hope! All you guys need to know is that I have a perfectly legitimate key and a perfectly legitimate reason to be here!”

“Sure Lance, whatever makes you feel better about this atrocious sin we’re about to commit.”

“Pppft, I doubt this’d be the reason we all get sent to hell.” Pidge mutters, opening her door before Lance brings the car to a complete stop. “There’s wifi, right?”

“Wasn’t when I lived here.” 

“Hm.”

Keith grabs his bag from the trunk and follows Lance up the front porch and to the door, the same one that he shut years and years ago with every thought of never being able to return. 

He runs into Lance’s back as Lance pauses at the door. He’s about to ask what’s up when Lance holds out his hand, letting the key ring sit face up in his palm. Keith takes the keys and selects the right one, only pausing a little before he slots the key into the lock and turns it; once to the left and then all the way around to the right. The lock clicks softly and the door hinges squeak with rust as he turns the handle and slowly pushes the door open.

“See? Totally vacant.” Lance says from over Keith’s shoulder. “No people, no ghosts, no rabid animals. We only gotta share this place with spiders, cobwebs, and probably mice.”

Lance puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder and shoves him a little, forcing Keith to break the threshold and take his first step into the house in 10 years. It’s a little overwhelming, the rush of emotions he feels as he looks around at his old furniture still in it’s old places. 

There’s a layer of dust settled over the few paintings and picture frames hanging around the small living room that Keith never got around to taking down.

The animal skin rug in the dining room is still the same, the creaky wood floors, the warm cozy feeling, the familiar smell underneath a layer of musk in the air. It all feels the same.

The only thing different is the empty cupboards in the kitchen, the empty and warm fridge when Keith opens it and sticks his hand in. 

The people with him, those are different too . 

It feels… weird to return here now. 

Weird, but in a good way, somehow. 

There’s a little hum and then the fridge light kicks in and then the oven beeps and the time of 12:00 starts flashing in little green numbers on the display.

“There, got the generator running,” Pidge says, making her way into the kitchen.

“You’ve literally been here for barely a minute,” Lance says, dropping the cooler down on the kitchen floor, “knew it was a good idea to bring you.”

“All it took was a simple rewiring of the-”

“No no no nope nuh uh, no Hunk, and nope, Pidge you too, no sciency talk while we are on vay cay, am I clear?”

“He was gonna say that the-”

Keith watches in wonder as the living room and kitchen becomes invaded with his three friends’ chatter. It’s more noise and more activity and more positivity than this house has had in as long as Keith can remember. He feels that pull in his chest as he watches Pidge plop down on the couch, sending a puff of dust into the air, as Lance starts stocking the fridge with the food they brought with them for the week, as Hunk walks in through the open front door with his arms full of their sleeping bags and pillows and blankets. 

It’s…

Keith feels so very close to naming it, the words sitting just on the tip of his tongue, afraid of coming forward and making themselves known. 

“-ey.”

Keith blinks back into focus to see Lance standing right in front of him, a quiet concerned expression written into his features. “Hey, you good?”

“Thank you.” He grabs Lance by his belt buckles and pulls him into a hug, “thank you so much for bringing me here.”

~

Lance wakes in his sleeping bag on the stripped master bed to find the sleeping bag next to his empty. When he stretches his arm out, the bed and blankets are cool, no longer containing any warmth of the body that once occupied it. 

Lance walks out of the bedroom and creaks across the wooden floor, through the hall, and into the living room. Pidge is passed out on a small futon on the floor, Hunk snoring lightly on the couch. There’s no sign of Keith anywhere.

As he passes by it, the clock on the stove reads 6:32am. 

He tiptoes all the way through the house to the front door, opens it to a view of Keith’s back, sitting on the top step, wrapped up tight in a blanket. 

He walks over and picks up the end of the blanket, tugging it over his shoulders and he sits down and scooches in close, leaning a head down on Keith’s shoulder. 

“You good, babe?” He asks into the peaceful morning air. 

From their perch on the top step, they have a perfect view of the mountains right in front of them, stretching high above the treeline and reaching their white, snow covered tops way up into the clouds. It’s a beautiful view, one Lance wouldn’t mind waking up to every morning. 

“I used to sit out here and watch the sunrise with my mom on some mornings.” Keith whispers in response. “Wait a few more minutes and it’ll be the best sunrise you’ve ever seen.”

“Mmm. you gonna take us all up to the mountaintop today? I made Pidge and Hunk pack their bathing suits and I’m positive you did too.”

Lance feels the smile work it’s way through Keith’s body. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He says, voice soft and quiet in the still morning. 

Sure enough, less than 10 minutes later, the sun pokes it’s way perfectly between the two peaks of the mountains and bathes them, inch by inch, in a delicious golden warmth. 

The air seems to twinkle as the sun rises into the sky, and somewhere close-by a songbird begins its call. 

It’s magnificent, really. 

Nothing short of sublime. 

Lance leans up to press a quiet kiss to Keith’s jaw, just below the ear. 

Nothing short of sublime, and there’s no one in the world who either boy would want to share the morning with. 

Pidge joins them later on, slipping quietly under the blanket, and together the three of them watch the world awaken. 

~

They wake Hunk up an hour later, and by 9 they’re all fed and packed and ready to go.

Keith takes them bushwhacking up the old, now overgrown trail that leads to the top of their mountain, and despite being older and more athletic, all 4 of them are panting, bent over to catch their breaths the moment Keith pushes past the dense foliage concealing the mountain top from view. 

“Woah,” Pidge gasps, eyes blown wide as she takes in the stunning view. Beside her, once Hunk has caught his breath and straightened up, he’s wearing a similar expression of awe on his face. “How the living heck did you guys find this place?” She asks, but the boys are already gone, once again racing each other to the bench on the far side. 

It’s no surprise, really, that when Pidge and Hunk walk over to them, lying side by side in the grass with their chests heaving, they’re arguing about who won. 

“Lance, probably,” says Pidge. 

“Keith, probably,” says Hunk. 

“A perfect tie,” is what they settle on. 

The day that passes is reminiscent of many days from their childhood, spent playing in the water at the base of their mountain top. For the better part of the morning and into the afternoon they walk around and explore, talking and sharing stories and memories, until the sun moves high enough into the sky to warm the air just that little bit more, becoming hot enough to make a small line of sweat sit above all their eyebrows. Hot enough for them to decide to swim in the alpine lake to cool themselves off, where they spend the rest of the afternoon. 

The lake is somehow colder than Keith remembers but the air is warm, and Lance brought a beach ball so they blow it up and end up playing many different variations of many different water games, till the sun begins its steady fall and they climb out onto the bank, dripping wet, with goosebumps littering their skin and smiles stretched across their faces. 

~

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent_  
_Hulled far from the highway aisle_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice_  
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles_

~

“Keith!” Lance says, bounding into the kitchen late the next morning, “we’ve gotta go open that time capsule! I’m sure it’s been enough time.”

“Aren’t you supposed to open those 100 or so years after you bury them? For, you know, people in the future to find and analyze?” Pidge asks from her spot on the counter. She dips her finger into the pancake batter that Keith and Hunk are trying to make. She offers a thinking face and then a “not bad, Keith”, to which Keith just scoffs and slaps her reaching hand away.

“Well, Pidgers, we’re not trying to provide humans with any vital information 100 years from now,” Lance sinks down onto a kitchen chair, crossing his long tan legs and throwing Pidge a cheeky grin. “We were what, 6? When we buried it? Definitely not for the scientists, Pidge.”

Lance’s hair is disheveled from a night of restful sleeping and the morning light streaming in from the many windows in the small room is doing funny things to the colouring of his hair. He’s just woken up, it’s obvious, yet the light on his hair, the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile playing on his face makes him look way more attractive than he should. He’s incredibly alluring, just sitting there like that, and Keith has to forcefully tear his eyes away and focus back in on the pan right in front of him. God, he’ll never hear the end of it from anyone in this kitchen if he fucks up the pancakes. 

“We can open it today, if you want.” Keith says, speaking to Lance for the first time this morning. “10 years is enough, I think. We could even camp up there tonight, really throw it back or something.” He says, voice soft. 

Lance’s face lights up at that suggestion, and it’s enough for Keith to toss the spatula to Pidge, leaving her in charge of the rest of breakfast while he kisses that stupid smile off Lance’s face. That stupid smile that Keith has fallen head over heels for. 

~

It ends up being just the two of them; Pidge and Hunk opting to stay back and enjoy a day indoors. Maybe get the TV and Pidge’s console set up, maybe drive into town to get a few more food supplies, and “sleep in a real bed again, thank you very much.” And yeah, Keith does remember that couch being hard as shit. _Sorry Hunk_. 

It ends up being just the two of them,hiking up to their spot with a tent and blankets among various other things, shoved into the biggest backpack they could find. They’ve even got sandwiches stuffed somewhere in there that Hunk made for them and insisted they take for lunch, or dinner, or whatever. 

Lance’s got his blue guitar bouncing around on his back, and Keith’s got a small shovel across his shoulders. 

Together, they hike up and up under the mid-morning sun, and with the heat on their backs and shoulders, they start digging (after fighting about the exact location to dig, of course). They take turns shoveling and before long, the spade hits something hard and metal, adding a dull sound to the otherwise peaceful quiet of the mountaintop. They stop shoveling long enough to peer into the hole, see the edge of something blue, high five, and then shovel and shovel and shovel to dig the box up. 

“Told ya it was here.”

“Whatever.”

The sun is unbearably hot but it’s fun, Keith decides. He decides he doesn’t mind the sweat dripping down his back when he gets a glimpse of Lance’s unhidden excitement. Doesn’t mind when they heave the box up along with 10 pounds of solid packed dirt and the excitement spreads into the air between them. Doesn’t mind when Lance gets his hands on the latches and takes his time opening the lid, so that Keith almost dies from the anticipation. 

It’s like a surprise, really. Like Keith imagines a real Christmas morning would have been like for Lance with his many siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles; what Keith imagines he missed out on. 10 years isn’t all that long ago when you think about it, but so much has happened during those 10 years that Keith truly forgets what they put in the box. Truly forgets the significance of ordinary items like chap-stick, until Lance pulls a tube out of the box and memory and nostalgia hit Keith like a brick wall. Memory, nostalgia, and emotion come washing over Keith in waves and waves as Lance pulls more items out and sets them on the grass between them. Who knew the emotional significance a seashell would hold after 10 long years? 

God, Keith knows the ridicule and laughs this very scene would bring to Shiro, Pidge, Hunk, and Matt, who would be all over making fun of this if they were here right now. And it probably is stupid, or sounds or looks stupid to the outside eye at least. 

The next object Lance takes out of the box is a small photo of them, taken and printed from Lance’s shitty camera, after a day of swimming. Keith’s wearing Lance’s red bathing suit that is clearly too long, coming all the way down to his knees, while Lance is in his blue one that now looks almost too small, barely reaching mid thigh. They’re standing side by side with Lance’s arm draped casually across Lance’s shoulders. They’ve both got water dripping from their hair and goosebumps clearly visible on their arms and legs, but the smiles on both their faces are warm and bright. They’re both looking directly at the camera, at Lance’s mom who had come to pick Lance up just before dinner. 

It hits more so than the other objects, because Keith had totally forgotten about this picture, about this day in general, and the wave of emotion that hits as the memory resurfaces is almost enough to knock Keith off his feet. He hasn’t smiled an open mouthed smile for years. 

The next picture Lance pulls out is almost exactly the same as the first, except it’s a little blurry and clearly taken just moments before -- They’re looking right at each other. 

Keith looks up from the picture he’s holding and looks right up into Lance’s face and sees mirrored emotions. 

“Oi, are you crying?!” Keith asks with a little bit of a laugh.

“No! No, no, I just got some-”

“Oi, it’s fine. Lance, look, it’s okay.” He says, letting Lance see his eyes, because he does understand, he really, really does. 

~

It’s the second night of their mini vacation and Keith and Lance are throwing it back, camping up on the mountain top to give Pidge and Hunk a night to themselves. They’ve got a tent set up here and a small campfire burning low enough to not raise any concerns; the parks laws have become much more strict in the 10 years they’ve been absent, after all. They’ve got a 6 pack sitting on the bench besides them, tons of blankets this time, and they’ve got each other, of course. 

And really, what else do they need? 

As the sun begins to fall, Lance brings out his guitar and warms up Holocene by Bon Iver, nice and slow. His voice control and ability to pluck the chords has improved since the last time Keith heard him, and for the whole 5 minutes, Keith can’t look anywhere else.

When Lance finishes, Keith asks him to play it again, slower this time so Keith can join in where he knows the lyrics. 

_Someway, baby, it's part of me, apart from me_  
_You're laying waste to Halloween_  
_You fucked it friend, it's on its head, it struck the street_  
_You're in Milwaukee, off your feet_

It’s hard, Keith thinks, to sing through a huge smile, but then again, Lance seems to be managing just fine. They’ve got their thighs pressed tight together, bodies close enough so that they're only taking up one space on the large bench, and Keith can't help but join in on the light sway that Lance has started. 

Lance messes up a chord and stops playing for a moment, laughing and briefly lay his head on Keith’s shoulder before picking back up again at the first verse. 

This time, as Lance sings _“somewhere, baby, it’s a part of me, apart from me,”_ Keith decides that Lance has become such a huge part of him that he never wants to lose, never wants to walk away from, never wants to be apart from ever again. 

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent_  
_Strayed above the highway aisle_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice_  
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles_

And Keith feels that one emotion that’s been hovering at the back of his mind, on the tip of his tongue, finally, _finally_ , come forward enough for him to almost place. He’s sure that he’s so very close to naming it now. So close that he’s sure if he was to open his mouth, it would come tumbling out with no restraint. 

_Third and Lake it burnt away, the hallway_  
_Was where we learned to celebrate_  
_Automatic bought the years you'd talk for me_  
_That night you played me 'Lip Parade'_  
_Not the needle, nor the thread, the lost decree_  
_Saying nothing, that's enough for me_

It’s… 

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent_  
_Huddled far from the highway aisle_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice_  
_And I could see for miles, miles, miles_

Feels like… 

_Christmas night, it clutched the light, the hallow bright_  
_Above my brother, I and tangled spines_  
_We smoked the screen to make it what it was to be_  
_Now to know it in my memory_

The word, the name, the emotion, is sitting there, right there, just waiting to be said. 

_And at once I knew I was not magnificent_  
_High above the highway aisle_  
_Jagged vacance, thick with ice_  
_But I could see for miles, miles, miles_

~

Lance plays various songs until the sun sinks down too low and it becomes too cold for his bare fingers to press the strings cleanly, so they take out the beer to warm themselves up. It doesn’t take long for the sky to become pitch black and the stars to start peaking out, and they find themselves now able to actually name the constellations in stead of make them up; 2 years of astronomy classes has apparently taught them some useful information, after all. 

They polish off a 6 pack between them, laughing and talking easily until the alcohol tires and quiets them out and makes them want to do nothing but sleep and sleep. 

The share a sleeping bag this time, coming together to fall asleep in a tangle of limbs under a heap of blankets without second thought - 10 years have past and instead of unconsciously wishing to be sleeping in each other's arms, it’s an unconscious action now and sleeping apart has become the foreign thought. 

They’re not 11 years old anymore though, so sleeping on the hard ground is more troublesome than either boy ever remembered it to be, and if they’re sore and more disheveled than usual in the morning, it’s totally not a big deal and they suck it up and pretend they slept just fine. 

Pidge and Hunk wake them up late the next morning, knocking on the tent flap and crawling in with a backpack filled with breakfast and travel mugs steaming with coffee, and it's the best breakfast in bed that Keith's ever gotten. 

~

It takes Keith until the next night to find the word, when Keith and Lance are the only ones still wake after marathon-ing BuzzfeedBlue’s Unsolved Supernatural series on Pidge’s laptop that she was able to rig up to the TV while they were camping out last night. The other two are passed out across the room, tired and worn out from another full day spent hiking under the sun. It leaves the quiet atmosphere of sometime between late night and early morning to the boy's all alone. 

The word, the emotion, the feeling, comes to him when Lance wraps an arm around Keith’s middle to pull him in closer, leaving the ghost of a kiss across his collar bone. 

It’s… 

Keith feels that same pull in his chest and, even though he’s not at Shiro’s or the apartment that he and Lance share, or with anyone of blood, he finally has a name for it: 

Home.

It feels like he’s finally at _home_. 

Because after all, home isn’t necessarily a place; it’s more about the people you choose to be with. 

And, with Lance curled warm into his front on the futon they're sharing, Hunk wrapped up on the couch, Pidge in a nest of blankets on the floor, Shiro, Matt, Allura just one phone call away, Keith feels like he's chosen his home. Or maybe, they've all chosen him. 

It’s taken him awhile, and he’s had help on the way, but he’s finally coming to realize that he’s worth something; that both him and Lance and every single person he’s met in his life are special and not special all at the same time. 

He’s not magnificent, he knows that now - but the idea of a family that’s not blood, a friendship that’s evolving into love right before his eyes, a home to return to every night, and loving and supportive people there for him at every turn - well, that very well might be magnificent in and of itself. 

“Can I kiss you?” Lance whispers against his skin. 

The answer has been, and always will be, _“yes.”_

_The End._

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annd wow, this was a long, wild ride. 
> 
> A huge Thank You goes out to everyone left comments and kudos along the way, I wouldn't have finished this without your support! 
> 
> I hope you guys liked this fic as much as I liked writing it <3 <3
> 
> Finally, here's my tumblr https://three-chan.tumblr.com/ if you guys wanna come yell at me or cry over Klance or suggest something for me to write :)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated!  
> Also, if you see huge mistakes (editing? never heard of her) just let me know cuz I wanna make it nice and perfect


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